(/^u  ^ 
/i-/^ 


r 
r 


^/^^n 


w 


A     SKETCH 


HIS  DESCENDANTS  TO  1884, 


ALSO,  SELECTIONS   OK    THE    PIIOSE    PUHLK'ATlONS    OF 


JOHN  ALLYN, 


AN  i>  HIS  I'oE'ric  w  i;  rri  nos. 


San  Fkanciisio  : 
A.   L.   BANCROFT  &  CO.,  I'kimkus. 

1884. 


PREFACE. 


^1 


This  work  is  not  iuteiideil  to  interest  the  general  public 

CG*     or  to  be  put  on  sale.     Its  object  is  to  rescue  from  oblivion 

,^    and    hand  down   to    posterity  such    fragments   as    may  be 

o*    had  of  the  lives  of  Matthew  Allyn.  the  first  settler  knowji 

>r    in  America,  and  his  descendants. 

ecz 

5         I  am  indebted    for    a   great  portion  of    the    information 

GO 

_-i  embodied  in  this  work  to  sketches  by  Mary  L.  Hart,  pub- 
^";  lished  in  the  Winsted  Herald.  Besides  putting  these  frag- 
9',  meuts  iu  convenient  form,  I  wish  to  perpetuate  such  selec- 
tions of  my  published  prose  writings  as  may  be  thought 
worth  preservation,  and  also  my  |)oetic  writings  entire — 
good,  bad,  and  indifferent — with  a  few  favorite  selections. 
Witliout  apologizing,  I  will  state  that,  after  a  busy  life,  I 
commenced  writing  this  poetry  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven, 
leaving  the  reader  to  estimate  their  i[uality.  it  lias  all 
been  published  in  local  |)eriodicals,  and  some  cjuoted,  fr()ni 
one  side  of  the  continent  to  the  other. 


27366r> 


INDEX 


Matthew  Allyn  antl  his  Descendants,    -         -         -         -       9 
Will  and  Morals,     -------  38 

Scientific  Indications  of  Progression,    -         -         -         -     94 

The  Coming  Religion,      ------        118 

Experience  with  Spirits,        ------  137 

Poems,     .  -        -        ^        -        -        -        -       142 

Essa}'  on  Wonmii  Suffrage,  ------  169 

Miscellaneous, 176 


A  SKKTCH 


MATTHEW  ALLYN 


HIS  DESCENDANTS  TO  1884. 


MATTHEW   ALLYN. 

Of  Matthew  Allyn,  the  first  settler  of  the  name  in 
Arueiicii,  little  is  known  but  that  l-e  settled  in  "Wimlsor, 
iij  Connecticut.  Nothing  whatever  is  known  of  the  family 
previous  to  emigration  from  England.  The  name  seems 
to  indicate  Welsh  origin.  I  have  nothing  to  relate  until 
we  come  to  Pelatiah  Allyn,  Jr.,  the  first  settler  of  Bark- 
Lamsted,  Litchfield  Co.,  Conn.  His  storj'^  I  give  as  told 
by  Mary  L.  Hart^of  JBarkhamsted. 

PELATIAH    ALLYN,  Jr. 

Time  ever  speeds  onward,  and  in  its  ceaseless  course  the 
march  of  civilization  presses  ft)rward  to  uncultivated  regions 
where  the  red  man  and  the  wild  beast  have  long  held  un- 
disputed sway.  And  thus  it  was  when  liarkliamsted  was 
an  unbroken  wilderness,  when  the  mountain-tops  and  the 
valleys  were  alike  a  dense  and  unsubdued  forest;  win  n  the 
deer  roamed  at  will;  when  the  panther,  the  bear  ami  the 
Avolf  made  the  night  hideous  with  their  wild  and  savage  out- 
ciies. 

Such  a  region  would  seem  to  hold  little  in  its  endirace  to 
allure  or  invite  settlers  to  make  a  home,  for  well  must  they 


10  TUli    ALLYN    FAMILY. 

1)0  aware  of  llio  liarclsLips  and  privations  to  •wliicli  tliey 
miiHt  be  stibjccted. 

At  the  first  settlement  of  Connecticut  it  was  natural  that  the 
most  accessihle  portions  should  have  been  chosen,  and  that 
the  lovely  and  fertile  Connecticut  Valley  shtuild  first  be  se- 
lected and  cultivated.  As  the  incoming'  tides  broii^jht  an 
increase  of  ])oi)ulation  the  domains  expanded,  and  enii;,'ra- 
tion  pushed  westward,  until  the  rocky  and  mountainous  re- 
f^ions  of  ]5arlchamsted  were  reached,  and  thougli  it  was  less 
invitinpf  than  many  other  localities,  yet  one  man  had  the  en- 
erf,'y,  the  perseverance  and  stamina  requisite  to  fell  the  lofty 
trees  and  commence  a  settlement  within  the  wilderness,  and 
lay  the  corner-stone  for  the  future  growth  and  prosperity 
of  the  town,  which  has  for  more  than  a  century  been  famous 
upon  the  pages  of  history.  To  this  man,  and  the  work  of 
his  hands,  and  the  record  which  he  has  left  behind  after 
the  coming  and  going  of  these  many  years,  would  I  invite 
the  attention  of  my  readers,  with  regret  and  sorrow  that  I 
cannot  lift  the  veil  which  shadows  his  life  and  give  an  accurate 
and  full  description  of  the  pioneer  settler  of  our  town.  The 
grave  has  long  held  his  sacred  ashes,  and  his  memory  lives 
in  the  hearts  of  his  great-grandchildren,  and  like  that 
grave  in  the  laud  of  Moab,  on  Nebo's  lonely  mountain, 
"  no  man  knoweth  of  his  sepulchre  unto  this  day." 

The  first  white  settler  in  the  town  of  Barkhamsted  was 
Pelatiah  Allyn,  Jr.,  who  came  from  Windham,  Coun.,  and 
was  the  son  of  Pelatiah  Allvn,  who  was  descended  from 
Matthew  Allyn,  the  first  of  the  family  that  came  from  Eng- 
land to  this  country.  « 

Pelatiah  Allyn  of  "Windsor,  deeded  land  lying  in  the  town 
of  Barkhamsted  "  in  an  unbroken  state  "  to  his  son  Pelatiah, 
Jr.,  who  came  to  this  town  in  1740,  and  built  a  log  house 
about  one  mile  north  of  New  Hartford,  on  the  ridge  which 
divides  the  east  branch  of  the  Farmington  river  from  the 
west  branch. 

He  was  at  this  time  unmarried,  and  many  vague  stories 
have  been  handed  down  of  hardships  and  discouragements, 
of  encounters  with  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest,  as  well  as 
■with  the  red  man.  Tradition  has  it  that  before  he  built  his 
log-house  he  had  a  large  box  secured  with  irou  bands  in 
wliich  he  used  to  sleep  nights,  and  one  day"  after  becoming 
much  fatigued,  he  lay  dow'U  in  his  box  to  rest,  and  in  some 
unaccountable  manner  the  lid  of  the  box  fell  down,  which 


THE    ALIA'N    FAMILY. 


11 


fastened  with  a  sprinrr^  and  for  the  same  len^^th  of  time  that 
Jonah  was  confined  iu  his  close  quarters  did  Mr.  Allyn  re- 
main a  jnisoner,  and  when  nearly  dead'was  released  by  a 
party  of  hunters,  who  in  their  meanderings  iu  quest  of  game 
discovered  a  coat  hanging  on  a  tree  close  by,  and  were  led 
to  gratify  their  curiosity  regarding  the  box  and  its  contents 
by  an  investigation,  which  resulted  most  happily  for 
Mr.  Allyn,  and  for  the  future  jgood  and  prosperity  of  this 
town. 

From  a  letter  written  by  Rev.  Ozias  Eells,  the  first  set- 
tled minister  of  this  town,  to  Dr.  Trumbull,  the  historian, 
we  find  that  at  the  time  of  his  coming  there  was  considera- 
ble disturbance  from  the  Indians  in  New  Hartford  and  the 
region  round  about,  and  the  alarm  became  so  great  that  at 
the  north  end  of  New  Hartford  they  had  a  house  "  forted 
in,"  to  which  all  the  families  went  to  lodge,  and  were  obliged 
to  work  their  fields  in  companies,  with  their  fire-arms.  Mr. 
Allyn  became  alarmed,  and  felt  so  insecure  that  he  went 
and  lodged  with  them — and  that  my  readers  may  under- 
stand his  situation  I  will  copy  a  small  portion  of  Parson 
Eells'  letter,  which  is  published  in  full  in  the  Barkhamsted 
Centennial  Book,  compiled  by  "William  Wallace  Lee,  of 
Meriden: 

"  Mr.  Allyn,  finding  be  must  be  alone  in  the  day-time  or 
leave  his  place,  concluded  to  secure  himself  as  Avell  as  he 
could.  He  had  built  him  a  house  with  one  large  room  and 
a  small  room  for  his  bed.  Just  before  the  door  that  led 
into  his  bedroom,  about  one  small  step,  he  had  a  trai)-door 
which  led  into  his  cellar.  At  night  he  used  to  lay  things 
around  his  outside  door  that  a  noise  might  be  made  if  any 
one  came  to  get  into  the  house,  and  then  shut  his  bedroom 
door  and  raised  his  trajj-door,  which  opened  from  the  bed- 
room door,  tliat  if  they  entered  there  they  must  fall  into  the 
cellar,  and  in  this  way  he  lived  for  some  years  \inmarried, 
and  never  met  with  any  disturbance  from  the  Indians." 

His  wife's  name  was  Sarah  Moody,  she  being  a  resident 
of  New  Hartford,  and  daughter  of  Adonijah  ]Moody.  They 
were  married  about  1751  or  '52.  Pelatiah  Allyn,  Jr.,  was 
born  in  Windsor  in  1713. 

Pelatiah  Jr.  and  Sarah  his  wife  had  but  one  son,  who  was 
born  in  1755,  and  to  whom  they  gave  the  family  name  of 
Pelatiah,  which  is  a  Bible  name  found  in  E/ekiel  xi.  1,  18. 
A  daughter  was  born  to  them,  but  I  do  not  find  the  date  of 


12  THE    AI.IAN    FAMILY. 

her  birtli,  nllhough  she  lived  to  many,  of  which  we  will 
«]M'!ik  luMcafter. 

rdiitiiih  2(1  owned  n  liir^'e  tract  of  land  iu  this  town,  in- 
cludinj,'  several  Imndred  acres.  After  he  was  on  the  down- 
hill of  life  ho  became  emhairassed  in  debt  and  shut  himself 
in  his  house.  One  morninj^  he  found  a  pane  of  ^\hhh  re- 
moved and  a  ^'un  lay  under  the  window,  which  he  inferred 
was  placed  by  some  friend  to  let  him  know  his  danger.  He 
owned  a  slave,  a  black  woman  by  tlie  name  of  Lily,  and  as 
bhe  was  ])roperty  and  could  be  taken  for  debt  they  hid  her 
Uji  stairs  in  a  deep  hole  down  by  the  chimney.  She  fell  to 
I'elatiah  3d,  and  afterwards  married  and  had  one  or  two 
children. 

A  tine  buflf  vest,  sent  with  other  goods  from  England  ia 
payment  of  Felatiah  2irs  share  of  a  fortune  in  Indiau  bonds, 
is  in  the  possession  of  one  of  his  great-grandsons.  Some 
liistoriaus  claim  that  Pelatiah  Allyn  2d  settled  first  iu  New 
Hartford,  and  that  the  records  of  that  town  show  when  land 
was  deeded  by  himself  and  S.irah  Moody,  his  wife,  to  the 
town,  but  this  was  doubtless  land  first  owned  by  the  father 
of  Sarah  Moody,  but  the  land  of  Pelatiah  2d  is  said  to  have 
lain  partly  in  New  Hartford, 

]My  information  of  the  first  settler  is  derived  chiefly  from 
family  tradition,  anil  may  be  in  n)any  respects  incorrect. 
He  died  at  the  age  of  70  iu  the  year  1783.  In  our  next 
cha|)ter  we  will  take  the  life  of  P»-latiah  3d,  who  was  the 
only  son  of  the  pioneer  settler  of  Barkiiamsted. 

The  writer  of  this  [)ar!igra|)h,  J.  Allyn,  was  born  on  said 
farm,  a  small  part  of  which  is  over  the  line  in  New  Hartford. 
In  his  youth  he  made  hay  many  a  day  in  a  field  which  was 
part  iu  New  Hartford  aucl  part  iu  Barkhamsted. 

PELATIAH   ALLYN,   3d. 

Pelatiah,  son  of  Pelatiah  2d  and  Sarah  Moody,  his  wife, 
was  born  in  1755,  and  married  Mary  Ann  Gillett,  an  aunt 
of  Matthew  Gillett  and  also  of  Ann  Gillett,  who  became 
the  wife  of  Joseph  Wilder.  Mary  Ann  Gillett  was  born 
in  1758.  The}'  had  three  sous,  Pelatiah,  Henry,  and 
Matthew. 

AVhen  Pelatiah  3d  was  a  young  man  he  was  consumptive 
and  atHioted  for  years  with  a  bronchial  cough.  He  had  iu 
later  years   fever  sores   on   both  of  his  limbs,  and  there  is 


THE    ALLYN   FA^riLY.  13 

livinjif  at  present  an  ap^ed  lady  wlio,  when  a  child,  lived  in 
his  family  and  can  remember,  as  though  it  were  but  yester- 
day, seeing  him  dress  his  limbs,  daily  bathing  them  in  min- 
eral water,  rolling  and  unrolling  the  bandages. 

He  is  described  as  a  kind  and  most  agreeable  man,  en- 
joying hugely  a  joke  or  laughable  incident.  He  was  of 
s]>are  liabits,  of  few  words,  and  quite  a  mathematician. 
His  ambition  often  went  far  beyond  his  strength.  His 
death  was  occasioned  by  persisting  in  plowing  his  cornfield 
during  a  very  warm  day  of  May,  1815,  while  his  hired  help 
were  hoeing  the  same.  A  man  by  the  name  of  Pike,  think- 
ing he  overestimated  his  strength,  urged  him  to  let  him  take 
the  plow,  but  he  refused.  His  death  occurred  May  21, 
1815,  at  GO  years  of  age. 

A  favorite  maxim  of  his  was,  to  "  live  as  though  wo  were 
to  live  forever,  or  die  to-morrow."  A  slab  in  the  old  cem- 
etery marks  the  last  resting-place  of  Pelatiah  3d,  and  the 
visitoi's  to  that  silent  but  sacred  city  "  over  the  river  and 
on  the  hill"  will  read  from  the  moss-grown  slab  the  words 
which  have  been  carved  for  many  a  year,  "  Blessed  are  the 
dead  who  die  in  the  Lord,  for  their  works  do  follow  them." 

He  represented  the  town  in  the  State  legislature  twenty- 
two  times,  going  the  last  time  in  1814.  One  anecdote  of 
his  is  given  as  authentic.  The  Indians  as  a  class  aie  fond 
of  having  a  "paper,"  as  thej'  called  it,  which  should  serve 
to  introduce  them  and  gain  favors  and  odd  jobs  of  work 
from  the  people.  At  the  most  earnest  solicitation  of  an 
Indian,  Captain  Allyn  prepared  a  paper  which  road  thus: 
"  The  bearer  of  this  is  a  tolerable  good  Indian.  He  does 
his  work  well;  but  if  you  have  any  hatchets  or  tools  of  any 
kind  lying  around  loose  look  out  for  him,  as  he  will  steal 
anything  he  can  lay  his  hands  on."  This  Indian  could  not 
read,  and  he  took  great  ])ride  "in  presenting  the  paper  of 
recommendation  to  the  white  ])eo])le  and  soliciting   favors. 

Before  tlie  incorporation  of  the  town,  which  took  place 
in  October,  1779,  a  military  comjiany  was  organized  liere, 
in  October,  1774.  Pelatiah  3d  was  chosen  captain.  From 
traditional  repute  we  learn  that  this  company  were  inexpe- 
rienced in  military  tactics,  and  they  did  not  obey  the  cap- 
tain's order  to  "  Right  about  face!  "  in  an  approved  manner, 
and  with  patience  nearly  exhausted  he  succeeded  in  getting 
them  in  line  again,  when,  with  a  loud  voice,  he  gave  tlje 
comnjand,  "Wheel!     Wheel    to    my  son  Pelatiah    on    the 


14  THE    ALl-VX    FAMir.y. 

fence!"  wliicli  command  was  quick!}' aud  most  gracefully 
obfved. 

On  one  occasion  a  neighbor  made  some  wooden  combs 
which  did  not  require  any  great  amount  of  mecjjanical  in- 
genuily,  but  which  he  displayed  with  a  vast  amount  of 
j)ri<le  to  his  neighbor,  Cni)tain  Allyn.  Taking  the  coarse, 
awkward,  red-painted  combs  in  his  hand,  the  ca])tain.  after 
a  careful  inspection,  told  him  "  they  would  make  quite  re- 
8j)ectable  oveu  wood." 

As  the  aged  lady,  with  the  weight  of  more  than  four- 
score years  resting  upon  her,  with  finirers  tremulous  with 
age  unlocks  the  door  of  the  hidden  Past  and  lives  in  mem- 
ory amid  the  scenes  of  childhood  and  all  its  tender  and  sa- 
cred associations;  and  when  but  a  child  of  eight  years  she 
enters  the  dwelling  of  Pelatiah  and  Mary  Allyn,  and 
spreads  before  us  a  panorama  of  the  familiar  scenes,  intro- 
duces us  to  those  who  were  indeed  her  parents,  tenderly 
caresses  the  faces  which  were  so  dear  to  her  through  years 
of  her  girlhood,  we  can  but  marvel  that  the  mind  should 
after  the  lapse  of  so  manj'  years  recall  so  much  of  wLat  has 
been,  and  with  eyes  dimmed  by  the  coming  and  going  of  so 
many  eventides  see  again  the  prancing  iron-gray  colt  led  to 
the  horse-block,  Captain  Allyn  mounted,  guiding  and  con- 
trolling the  fiery  animal  by  the  sound  of  his  own  voice, 
while  the  reins  lie  upon  his  neck.  Again  she  sees  the  fam- 
ily at  church,  sitting  in  a  square,  high-backed  pew  in  the 
old  meeting-house,  a  part  of  the  pew  being  occupied  by 
Colonel  Israel  Jones  and  wife,  who,  as  long  as  she  can  re- 
member, sat  with  them  until  their  number  was  lessened  by 
the  beckoning  of  the  Death  Angel. 

From  his  elevated  position  in  the  great  high  pulpit  she 
sees  Parson  Eells,  from  Sunday  to  Sunday,  as  a  Icved  and 
reverend  shepherd,  feeding  the  lambs  of  his  flock.  Within 
the  sacred  precincts  of  home  she  sees  Mrs.  Allyn,  attired  in 
short  gown  and  petticoat,  industriously  working  at  her 
loom  carding  and  weaving,  while  she  herself  fills  the  quills. 

About  a  mile  from  Mr.  Allyn's  lived  a  man   by  the  name 

of  Michael ,  who  came  from   Scotland   and  was  by 

tiade  a  weaver  and  proficient  in  the  art.  He  was  fond  of 
cider,  and  would  often  go  to  Mr.  Allyn's  and  tell  the  little 
maid  that  if  she  would  draw  some  eider  he  would  fill  the 
quills  for  her.  The  work  of  filling  the  quills  was  quite  dis- 
tasteful to  the  young  girl  and  she  would   gladlv  make  the 


TIIK    AI.I.VN    KAMIl.V.  15 

excliMiif^c;  and  wliih'  Iu(  \viis  cn^Mif^'cd  in  pcrtOi  imn^'  liJH 
purl,  of  \\\v  si  ipiiliilion  ho  would  sin;^' soin«'  plriisin;^' son^jf, 
and  ()fl(Mi  would  hv^  for  "  a'criisl,  of  bicad  for  his  Hlomacli's 
RukM."  His  wif«>  was  pccMiIiar  and  slran;^*!  in  appcaranfo, 
walking'  nuicli  lilv(>  a  pttrson  inloxicalcd,  and  associated  but 
lillh>willi  the  people  alioul,  them.  Sh(>  own<>d  land,  an<l 
one  liiu(^  a  num  (Mil.  some  trees  on  Iwr  properly  and  sho 
Went,  to  ('aplain  Allyn  in  lier  Irouhle. 

Mrs.  lioekwell,  on  ("enter  Hill,  used  lo  comb  wool  to 
Hpin  for  woisled,  which  was  mad«^  into  eh»th,  Hloekinj^'s  and 
gh)vc's,  Hn<l  Mrs.  Allyn  used  lo  send  h(>r  wool  to  Mrs.  Ilock- 
w«dl  to  have  it  condted.  Iteb(>c(>a  l'ik(%  a  maiihtn  huly, 
nK<'d  lo  spin  for  Mrs.  Allyn,  iind  slu*  would  say  sho  had 
rather  b(«  with  h(>r  than  anywhere  else.  She  was  about 
RlrM.  Allyn's  a,';t>,  and  was  a  very  ami.able  and  soirial  p<'rHon. 
Sho  had  the  misfortune  In  fall  into  a  kellhi  of  boilin;j^  por- 
ridge wIk'u  she  was  small  and  was  fearfidly  burned,  ami 
ullhouoh  she  lived  she  was  never  stronjj  and  healthy,  .and 
was  diminutiv(>  in  stature. 

When  Captain  Allyn  lived  in  the  old  house,  in  the  din- 
in;.;-r<»om  tli(>re  was  a  lon;^'  bi^nch  on  one*  side  of  the  lablo 
foi-  111*'  men  to  sit  upon,  it.  beinj.,'  loM;^<'r  than  tin*  table, 
("aplain  Allyn  sat  at  l.ii(<  end  of  llie  tab|t>  and  his  «lo}j;  lluii- 
t(M-  W(Mdd  sit  by  his  sid(>  on  the  <>nd  of  Ihe  b(>neh  and  tho 
'Stpiir(^  woidd  f«'ed  him;  and  when  Hunter  did  not  reeeivo 
th«)  attention  to  which  he  thou<^dit  he  was  (>ntitled  he  woidd 
jdaee  his  paw  on  the  'Scpiire's  aiiu.  when  his  wants  would 
be  supplied. 

In  the  latter  part  of  (!aptaiu  Allyn's  life  lu*  became  tpiito 
(b>af,  and  Dr.  AmoH  Jteeeher  used  t«>  ^fo  often  to  se<)  him. 
()n«*  day  while  llu're  he  exiiaeted  with  his  turidc(>ys  the  lirst 
tooth  this  little  ;^irl  was  called  upon  to  part  with;  and  now 
the  remembrance  of  Ih.at  incident  is  fresh  in  Ihe  eveninj^  »>f 
her  life. 

Th<*  dau;^liler  of  the  pioneer  and  S.arah  Moody,  his  wife, 
married  a  num  by  the  mmut  of  Shepard,  and  she  di<<d  leav- 
iu'^  n  babe.  wlii<-h  she  M-ave  to  her  brother,  ('aplain  Allyn. 
Hhe  left  a  will.  Ihou^^h  how  much  land  she  own<'<l  is  not 
known.  She  left  also  a  silk  dress  for  Ii(>r  daughter  Polly, 
which  she  did  not  wear  until  her  nnirria^^'e,  in  IStKl,  with 
Sylvester  Jones,  who  hml  lived  with  Sipiire  .\llyn  for  some 
time  previous. 


K;  THK    AI.r.YN    FAMII-V. 

PELATIAH  ALLYN,  4th. 

Pf'lntiali  Allyii  4lli,  olilfst  son  of  C!ii)t!iiii  Pelatiali  Allyn, 
WHS  horn  Docciiiber  4,  1785.  He  inairied  Amelia  Taylor,  a 
(1an;,'lit(M-  of  Ozias  Taylor,  of  Canton,  January  14,  1808. 
Amelia  Taylor  was  born  April  19,  178;").  Tliey  lived  in 
liarkliiimstod,  on  tlie  west  side  of  tbe  Farmii)<,'tf)n  river, 
below  ('annon's  Forfje.  Here  tbey  were  riclily  blessed  by 
the  birth  of  seven  children,  four  sons  and  three  i1an<,diters, 
viz.:  Mary  Ann,  Pelatiali,  jr.,  Amelia,  Ozias,  William  H. 
"Walter  and  Chestina.  Marv  Ann  was  born  May  10,  1809; 
Pelatiah.  jr.,  September  8,"  1810;  Amelia,  July  14,  1812; 
Ozias,  September  30,  ISU;  William  H.,  April  4,  1817; 
Walter,  February  23,  1810;  Chestina,  May  29,  1821. 

Pelatiah  4th  had  long  cherished  a  desire  to  see  the  "  far 
west,"  as  Ohio  was  then  called,  and  be  consulted  with  his 
father  regarding  the  matter,  who  said  to  him,  "No  doubt 
Ohio  has  good  land,  but  it  has  no  market,  and  never  can 
have,  since  it  is  an  inland  State."  His  anxiety  to  see  the 
much  heard  of  land  of  promise  increased,  however,  and  in 
1819  he  set  out  on  horseback  to  see  that  remote  country. 

His  father-in-law  had  settled  in  Ohio,  at  W^orthiugton, 
near  Columbus,  and  after  a  ride  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  days 
he  reached  his  hotne.  He  was  much  pleased  Avith  the 
country,  but  thought  the  climate  must  be  bad,  as  the  coun- 
tenances of  tin;  famih"  he  noticed  were  a  trifle  sallow. 

From  there  he  set  out  for"  New  Connecticut,"  or  what  is 
now  known  as  the  "Western  Reserve, "whicli  comprises  some 
thirteen  counties  in  the  north-east  part  of  the  State.  While 
on  his  journey,  he  came  one  evening,  not  far  from  the  hour 
of  sunset,  to  the  dismal,  solitary  house  of  a  settler,  and 
from  him  gained  the  intelligence  that  the  next  house  was 
twenty  miles'  distant.  Being  rather  anxious  to  reach  liis 
destimition,  he  resolved  to  push  on,  but  darkness  settled 
upon  the  ])ath  before  him;  he  was  unable  to  keep  the  nar- 
row traek  marked  oul}'  by  blazed  trees,  and  he  was 
reluctantly  forced  to  halt  until  the  rising  of  the  moon 
should  light  him  on  his  way  with  her  friendly  beams.  In 
the  distance  he  heard  the  dismal  howl  of  a  puck  of  wolves, 
and  in  a  state  of  much  disquiet  became  aware  of  their  near 
approach.  His  thoughts  worked  with  the  speed  of  light- 
ning, and  the  one  in  predominance  was  how  he  could  save 
himself,  and  that  was  easily  done   by  climbing  a   tree,  but, 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  17 

alas!  his  poor  horse  would  be  killed  and  devoured  by  the 
eaper,  hungry  pack,  and  he  could  not  well  aflord  to  lose  this 
faithful  beast,  and  manfully  resolved  to  figiit  them  off. 
Accordinj^l}'  he  cut  a  larj^'e  club  and  stood  in  defense  ready 
to  give  them  some  sore  heads  ere  they  should  secure  their 
exjiected  pre}'. 

AVith  gleaming  eyes  and  hungry  looks  the  wolves  ad- 
vanced nearer  and  nearer,  and  as  the  valiant  little  man 
fearlessly  stood  his  ground  they  went  around  him  howling 
dismally,  not  daring  to  attack  him,  and  now,  as  the  queen 
of  night  sails  majestically  up  and  lights  the  scene,  the}' 
left  him  unmolested,  and  he  was  able  to  resume  his  journey, 
reaching  the  house  he  was  in  quest  of  before  night  folded 
her  starry  mantle. 

After  viewing  the  "New  Connecticut"  he  started  for  home, 
where  he  arrived  after  a  twelve  days'  journey.  He  was 
much  pleased  with  tlie  country,  but  not  until  the  spring  of 
1822  couhl  he  get  his  wife  to  consent  to  "  go  west "  to  Ohio 
and  leave  their  Barkhamsted  home.  In  six  weeks  after 
gaining  her  conseiit  tliey  were  on  the  road  with  two  yoke  of 
oxen,  one  large  wagon,  one  one-horse  wagon,  one  cow  and 
one  horse.  Nelson  Gilbert,  son  of  Asa  Gilbert,  went  with 
them  and  his  expenses  were  borne  for  the  assistance  he  was 
enabled  to  render. 

They  left  Barkhamsted  in  the  month  of  June,  during  the 
early  ]iart  of  the  month,  and  were  four  weeks  on  the  road. 
They  did  not  make  any  permanent  settlement  until  the  fol- 
lowing August.  Three  more  children  were  added  to  the 
number  in  their  new  home — Watson,  Orson,  and  Orville — 
and  these  were  born  in  Hiram,  Portage  county.  Watson 
was  born  June  4,  1821;  Orson,  July  25,  182G;  and  Orville, 
March  10,  1829. 

Pelatiah  was  a  successful  and  well-to-do  farmer,  and 
lived  to  see  his  promise  verify  itself,  in  giving  to  each  of  his 
children,  ten  in  number,  one  hundred  acres  of  land.  As  to 
his  personal  appearance,  he  was  about  five  feet  ten  inches  in 
height,  with  light  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  a  round  red  face.  His 
figure  was  somewhat  plump  and  round,  and  he  was  not 
an  imposing-looking  man.  He  was  a  wiry,  sinewy  man, 
whose  muscles  never  tired,  and  whose  endurance  knew  no 
limit. 

He  was  ambitious  and  hopeful,  ever  eager  for  the 
unborn    to-morrow,    with     new    plans    and     new    hopes. 


1,S  TlIK    ALLYN    FAMILY. 

Willi  "  never  say  die  "  for  bis  motto,  he  kuew  no  such  word 
ns  fail. 

AiiH'liii  Tink)r,  liis  wife,  was  a  tall,  Lony  woman,  with 
{,'reat  jiowers  of  endurance.  She  was  six  feet  in  hei^'iit,  and 
in  her  ])rime  wei;,djed  two  liundred  ])Ounds.  She  was  a 
person  who  knew  her  own  mind  and  could  speak  it  plainly 
when  or;casion  required.  She  was  a  most  kind  and  indul- 
gent mother,  and  as  she  g;revv  feeble  and  a;,'ed,  with  one 
voire  her  cliildren  could  "rise  up  and  call  her  blessed." 

She  and  her  husband  both  lived  to  see  the  day  when  Ohio 
had  a  market  and  was  fast  assuming  its  jjlace  among  the 
first  States  of  the  Union.  They  lived  to  enjoy  its  rapid 
growth  and  jnosperity,  and  with  pleasure  and  appreciation 
of  Invention's  mighty  march  journeyed  over  the  iron  roads 
of  their  adopted  State,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  way  in 
which  they  entered  its  limits,  with  their  carts  drawn  by  slow 
l)lodding  oxen.  Pelatiah  Allyn  4th  died  December  18, 
IH.K);  Amelia  Taylor,  his  wife,  September  13,  18G7.  The 
former  died  from  paralysis,  to  which  the  Allyn  family  have 
a  tendency,  the  descendants  fearing  that  disease  more  than 
any  other. 

I'elatiah  and  Amelia  Allyn  had  ten  children,  fonr  of 
whom  are  now  living;  grandchildren,  56,  31:  of  w^hom  are 
living;  great-grandchildren,  51,  38  of  whom  are  living. 
Mary  Ann,  tiie  oldest  child,  married,  January,  1827,  James 
I.  Young,  who  was  by  occupation  a  farmer.  She  had  ten 
children,  four  of  whom  are  living;  13  grandchildren,  ten 
of  whom  are  living.     She  died  February  27,  1852. 

Pelatiah,  the  oldest  son,  was  by  trade  a  carpenter. 
March  12,  1835,  he  married  Aileline  Joslin,  by  whom  he 
had  eight  children,  four  living  at  present.  Of  his  eleven 
grandchildren,  all  are  living.     He  died  March  5,  1852. 

Amelia  Allyn  married  John  Mason,  July  14, 1812,  he  being 
by  occupation  a  farmer.  She  had  nine  children  and  four 
grandchildren.  Seven  children  are  living  and  three  grand- 
children. She  died  September  9,  1882.  Her  husband  lives 
at  Trenton,  Missouri. 

Ozias  Allyn  married  Caroline  Norton,  May,  1838,  by  whom 
he  had  two  children,  both  now  dead.  September  30,  1844, 
he  married  Anna  Norton,  and  four  children  blessed  this 
union  and  arc  still  living.  Ozias  was  a  farmer.  He  died 
May  18,  1883,  from  paralysis,  he  being  a  resident  of  Hiram, 
Ohio. 


THE    ALLYN    FA  MIL  V. 


19 


"William  H.  Allyii  nianietl,  October,  1837,  Sarah  Ann 
Slay  ton,  and  bad  nine  cliildren  and  three  grandchildren.  Five 
cLiidren  are  living  and  one  grandcliild.  He  is  by  trade  a 
carpenter,  and  lives  in  Hardin  county,  Ohio. 

Watson  Allyn  married,  in  1837,  Koxy  M.  Pinney,  and 
bad  only  one  child,  which  is  dead.  He  died  in  August,  1874, 
He  was  a  merchant.  His  widow  resides  in  Ridgeway, 
Hardin  county,  Ohio. 

Cbestina  Allyn  was  married,  June  2,  1842,  to  E.  M. 
Young,  and  resides  in  Hiram,  Ohio,  and  is  the  wife  of  a 
carpenter.  They  have  three  children  and  two  grand- 
children. 

Watson  Allyn  married,  November,  1849,  Hattie  Vaugh; 
October  24,  1857,  Eunice  Clark;  and  April  12, 187G,  Rosella 
Udall.  He  had  two  children  by  bis  lirst  wife,  one  by  the 
seccmd,  which  is  dead,  and  two  by  the  third  wife,  one  of 
which  is  living.  He  has  one  grandchild.  He  has  a  won- 
derful mechanical  genius  and  is  "Jack  at  all  trades."  His 
home  is  in  Portage  county,  Ohio. 

Orson  Allyn  married  Elvira  King  in  185G,  and  had  two 
children  and  five  grandchildren.  He  was  a  carpenter,  and 
died  in  November,  1874. 

Orville  Allyn,  in  January,  1855,  married  Lorinda  E. 
Young,  and  had  three  children,  one  of  which  died.  He  is 
a  farmer,  and  lives  in  Lucas  county,  Ohio. 

Allot  Pelatiahand  Amelia  Allyn'schildren  were  members 
of  the  same  church  of  which  President  Garfield  was  a  mem- 
ber when  he  died.  They  have  been  prominent  men  and 
women  wherever  they  have  settled,  of  strong  and  energetic 
character. 

Three  of  Pelatiah  and  Amelia's  grandchildren  are  college 
graduates,  Sutton  E.  and  Clark  M.  Young-,,  children  of 
Cbestina  Allyn  Young',  and  Frank  P.,  sou  of  William  H. 
Allyn.  They  are  graduates  of  Hiram  College,  of  which 
President  Garfield  was  once  both  pupil  and  president. 

Only  one  of  Pelatiah  and  Amelia's  children  ever  taught 
school,  which  is  worthy  of  mention,  that  one  being  Watson, 
who  taught  for  a  considerable  period  in  his  younger  days. 

Four  of  the  grandchildren  of  Pelatiah  and  Amelia  came 
to  violent  deaths.  Aaron,  son  of  Ozias,  was  killed  in  the 
army;  Kate,  a  daughter  of  Ozias,  was  thrown  from  a  wagou 
and  injured  so  that  she  lived  only  a  few  hours;  Allen 
Young,  sou  of  Mary  Ann  Allen  Young,  and  William  Mason, 


L'O  TIIK    ALI.YN    FAMILY. 

soil  of  Anioliu  Allvii  Allison,  were  both  killed  l)y  an  overdose 
of  moipliine. 

Ill  our  lute  war  this  family  furnished  five  brave  soldiers, 
l)nt  only  one  canie  out  alive.  Edwin,  son  of  Pelatiah  otli,. 
dit'd  of  disease  in  the  army;  Aaron,  son  of  Ozias,  whs  shot  at 
port  Gilison;  Elijah,  son  of  Amelia  Mason,  died  of  wounds 
received  in  lintlle,  as  did  also  Homer,  son  of  William  H. 
Allyn.  He  also  sent  his  son  Alvin,  who  returned  iinlnumed 
and  is  still  livinj,'. 

There  seems  to  be  an  abundance  of  teachers  in  this  branch 
of  the  family,  as  Pelatiah  5th  has  a  son  and  dau^ditcr, 
Edward  and  Mary,  who  are  teachers,  as  also  were  Fred, 
Sarah,  Amelia,  children  of  Amelia  Allyn  Mason;  Kate, 
Aaron,  Minnie,  Emma,  and  Henry,  children  of  Ozias;  Mollie 
and  Frank  P.,  children  of  "William  Allyn;  Rena  A.,  Sutton 
E.  and  Clark  M.,  children  of  Chestiua  Allyn  Young.  She 
also  has  a  son,  Sutton  E.,  who  is  a  lawyer.  He  was  also 
elected  to  the  State  legislature,  and  was  formerlv  of  Kenton, 
Ohio. 

Among  all  this  long  list  of  names  of  the  grandchildren  of 
Pelatiah  ami  Amelia  Allyn  no  disciple  of  Esculapius  can  be 
found,  which  seems  somewhat  singular. 

Of  family  relics,  Watson  Allyn  has  a  compass  which  was 
owned  by  his  great-grandfather,  Pelatiah  2d;  a  brass  kettle 
biuight  during  the  war  of  1812  by  bis  father,  and  also  a 
chain  bought  hy  him  in  1H20,  and  when  he  went  to  Ohio  in 
1S22,  he  carried  a  broad-ax,  on  which  is  stamped  plainly 
at  the  present  day  the  name  of  Elijah  Cannon. 

Cliestina  Allyn  Young  has  a  bible  that  bears  her  mother's 
maiden  name,  Amelia  Taylor,  in  it,  and  the  date  of  her 
marriage. 

Pelatiah  Allyn  4th  was  the  second  person  with  a  family 
that  moved  into  Freedom  Township,  Ohio,  at  that  time  a 
wilderness.  Cajitain  Payne  was  the  first  settler.  One  day 
in  the  fall  of  1832,  Captain  Payne  and  Pelatiah  Ally  a 
shoiddered  their  muskets  and  started  off  hunting.  Captain 
Payne  being  a  great  hunter.  They  soon  ran  a  cub  up  a 
tree,  and  Cajjtain  Payne,  bringing  his  gun  to  his  shoulder, 
took  deliberate  aim  and  tired,  and  down  came  the  cub,  cry- 
ing so  loudly  when  attacked  by  the  dogs  that  the  mother 
bear  appeared  u|)on  the  scene  quite  nncex-emoniously  and 
fouudit  (h-sperately  for  her  babe — bear,  cub,  and  dogs  all  in 
ft  pile.     Mr.  Allyn  went  up  close  to   try  to  shoot  the  bear 


THE    ALLYX    FAMILY.  21 

aiul  save  the  clogs,  when  the  bear  came  for  him  aiul  when 
within  six  or  eight  ft-et  of  him  he  snapped  his  gnu,  which 
missed  fire,  and  Captain  Payne,  in  telling  the  story  later, 
said  "his  hairat  tliat  stai,>^e  of  utlairs  stood  stiaight  up,"  as  he 
expected  he  should  be  foiced  to  use  his  rifle  as  a  club,  but 
Mr.  Allyn  did  not  m(jve,  but  raised  his  gun  and  waited  for 
the  beast  to  attack  him,  but  she  ran  the' other  way  instead, 
and  they  were  glad  to  dispense  with  her  company. 

HENRY     ALLYN. 

Henry  Allyn,  second  son  of  Pelatiah  3d  and  Mary  Ann 
Gillett,  was  born  April  1,  1791.  He  married  October  14, 
1813,  Sophia  Taylor,  daughter  of  Ozias  Taylor  of  Canton, 
she  being  a  sister  of  his  brotlier  Pehitiah's  wife.  He  lived 
in  the  house  on  the  road  south  of  where  'Squire  John  Mer- 
rell  lived,  the  house  for  the  past  few  years  being  owned 
and  occupied  b}'  the  late  George  T.  Carter. 

They  iiad  nine  children:  Clarinda,  Clarissa,  Evaline, 
Henry,  Hiram,  Sophia,  Homer,  Caroline,  and  Helen.  All 
his  children  were  born  in  this  town  with  the  exception  of 
the  3'oungest  daughter,  Helen. 

In  June,  183"),  Henry  Allyn  moved  to  Ohio  with  his  en- 
tire fanjily,  with  one  exception.  His  oldest  daughter  re- 
mained in  Barkhamsted.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  brother 
Mattliew  and  his  famil}',  and  also  by  his  mother.  Tlieir 
first  stopping  place  was  with  the  brother  who  had  preceded 
them  in  Hiram,  Portnge  county,  an  account  of  whose  jour- 
ney west  and  life  thereafter  has  been  given  above.  Henry 
first  took  land  and  fitted  a  home  in  Freedom,  Portage 
county;  afterwards  he  removed  to  Wellington,  where  some 
of  the  family  still  live. 

Clarinda,  the  oldest  daui^hter,  was  born  in  lSl-1,  and  was 
married  September  10,  LS3-4,  to  Daniel  J.  Ilexford.  a  son  of 
John  Rexford  of  Center  Hill,  and  lived  in  13arkh,imsted  un- 
til a  few  years  ago  when  they  moved  to  Stamford,  New 
York.  'J'hey  had  seven  children:  Eniily,  Oilo,  Henry,  Eva, 
Ellen,  Lizzie,  and  ^laiy. 

Emily  married  Slieldon  Johnson  son  of  Ralph  Johnson,  of 
Center  Hill.  She  died  h-aving  one  chilil,  a  son.  His  death 
was  caused  by  sliding  down  hill  lying  face  downwartls  upon 
his  sled,  which  ran  against  a  tree — his  head  sinking  the 
tree  and  he  was  instantly  killed. 


22  TlIK    AU.YN    lAMILY. 

Olio  iimiriftl  Miss  Siisjin  Paddlcford  of  Colebrook,  and 
jit  prcst'iit  is  11  resident  of  Winsted  and  a  man  niucli  re- 
spoctt'd.     He  lias  several  children. 

Henry  nmrried  INIiss  Jfainette  Guernsey,  danj^diter  of  Jo- 
sepli  li.  (liiernseyot  Barkiianisted,  and  at  once  left  his  young 
and  fair  bride  for  the  toils  and  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life. 
He  enlisted  Au^^ust  21,  1802,  in  Coinpauy  E,  2d  Artillery, 
and  was  killed  at  Cold  Harbor,  June  1,  180-4. 

Eva  is  a  noted  school-teacher,  teaching  tor  a  numlier  of 
years  in  Barkhamsted  and  vicinity;  later  in  Winsted,  where 
she  had  a  private  school,  and  since  their  removal  to  New 
York  State  she  has  taught  in  several  of  the  western  States 
and  meets  with  success. 

Ellen  married  before  they  left  Barkhamsted  a  Mr.  Gibbs 
of  New  York  State,  and  at  present  resides  at  Pittsburg, 
Penu.,  Mr.  Gibbs  forming  one  of  the  firm  of  T.  H.  Nevius 
&  Co.  of  that  place.     They  have  several  children. 

Lizzie  is  a  graduate  of  Vassar  College  and  a  teacher.  She 
married  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Graves,  who  also  is  a 
teacher. 

Mary  is  a  graduate  of  IMount  Holyoke  Seminary,  South 
Hadley,  and  teaches  in  the  same  school  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Graves.  Tiiey  are  a  sui)erior  family  and  have  had  tine  edu- 
cational advantages.  Mrs.  Bexford  is  a  cultured  and  re- 
liued  lady. 

Clarissa  Allyn  was  born  in  1818,  and  married  Cornelius 
Johnson,  M.  D.  He  died  leaving  two  daughters.  She 
married  John  Gill;  he  died  and  left  two  sons  and  two 
daii'j;hters.     She  died  October  5,  18(59,  aged  51  years. 

Evaline  Allyn,  born  in  1820,  married  Miles  Saxton,  who 
died  several  years  since,  leaving  her  with  three  daughters 
and  one  son.     They  reside  in  Olivet,  Michigan. 

Henry  Allyn,  born  in  1823,  married  Nancy  Mason  and 
died  December,  1878,  aged  55,  leaving  a  widgw  and  three 
daughters  in  Hiram,  Ohio. 

Hiram  Allyn  went  to  Ohio  with  his  parents  when  but  ten 
years  of  age.  At  twenty-tive  years  of  age  he  married  Miss 
Elizabeth  Merrell,  a  daughter  of  Samuel  Merrell  of  Bark- 
hamsted, who  had  previously  moved  west  to  Galena,  Illinois, 
where  his  wife  died,  and  on  his  return  to  Connecticut  he 
stopped  to  visit  his  sister — the  wife  of  Matthew  Allyn.  Hi- 
ram Allyn  and  Elizabeth  Merrell  had  always  attended  school 
together  in  Barkhamsted  until  they  were  separated  bv'  the 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  23 

removal  west.  Tliey  were  born  the  same  year,  the  same 
mouth,  but  not  quite  the  same  day,  iind  they  were  not  slow 
in  renewing  the  friendsliii)  of  their  childhood  days.  AVheu 
Hiram  saw  the  little  girl  of  ten  years  had  grown  into  a  hand- 
some and  attiactive  young  lady,  all  the  love  he  had  felt  for 
the  little  school  girl  who  had  met  him  daily  at  the  school- 
house,  romped  with  him  hand  in  hand  on  the  green  at  re- 
cess, studieil  froui  the  same  book,  recited  in  the  same  class, 
returned  ten-fold,  and  he  found  occasion  soon  to  tell  to  the 
sweet- faced  Elizabeth  the  old,  old  story: 

"  I  am  strfiiig  and  you  are  weak, 
Life  is  ))ut  a  .slippery  steej), 
Hung  with  .shadows  cold  and  deep. 
AVill  you  trust  nie,  Katie  dear, 
AValk  beside  me  without  fear? 
May  I  carry,  if  I  will, 
All  your  burdens  up  the  hill?" 

And  like  the  Katie  we  read  in  the  sweet  old  poem: 

"     *     *     slie  answered  with  a  laugh, 
No,  but  you  may  carry  half." 

So  Hiram  saved  a  long  trip  to  Connecticut  to  woo  the 
fair  girl,  and  they  were  wed,  and  now  after  the  sunlight 
and  shades  of  many  years,  tliis  same  Hiram,  far  down  life's 
walk,  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart  sends  greetings  to  the 
author  of  Barkhamsted  Reminiscences,  and  doubts  if  in  the 
wide  world  so  good  wives  and  mothers  can  be  found  as  have 
been  reared  among  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Barkhamsted, 
and  enthusiastically  calls  God's  blessing  to  rest  upon  his 
native  town. 

They  have  had  eight  children — five  sons  and  three  daugh- 
ters. Emily,  the  eldest,  is  married  and  lives  in  Iowa.  The 
next  were  twin  boys,  but  only  one  is  living,  who  is  nnirried, 
and  whose  present  residencQ  is  in  Portage  county.  Kittie, 
the  second  daughter,  died  at  four  years  of  age.  Arthur, 
Fred,  Jennie,  and  Walter  all  live  at  home. 

Elizabeth  Merrell  Allyn  came  to  Barkhamsted  in  1880, 
during  the  month  of  September,  accompanied  by  'Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Saxton  {ni'i:  Mary  Allyn,  daughter  of  Matthew).  She 
still  retains  the  pleasant  and  pleasing  expression  which 
characterized  her  when  a  girl. 

Hirum  Allyn  now  lives  at  Wellington,  Ohio,  and  liis  his- 


24  Tine    AM-YX    FAMILY. 

tuiy  sooiuod  soinewliat  clicrlared,  lie  beiiif,'  one  of  the  rest- 
lesH,  roviiiff  iiiitiires,  who  thinks  "  variety  tlie  spice  of  life  " 
and  nuist  iuive  chiinj^e  to  break  the  monotony  of  every-day 
life.  He  retains  pleasing  recollections  of  his  native  town 
and  has  always  been  proud  of  it,  doubtless  because  he  left 
when  he  was  a  small  lad.  His  memory  is  remarkably  well 
preserved  in  many  respects  for  a  boy  of  ten  years,  as  he  in 
innij^n nation  sees  the  school-house  at  the  Center;  the  teacher 
with  uplitted  hemlock  whip  descending  upon  his  defense- 
less head  and  back — reminding  hitn  niost  vividly  of  his 
short -comings;  the  old  meeting-house,  "  the  most  romantic 
of  all, '' tlie  lofty  pulpit  where  the  ministers  gave  to  saint 
and  sinner  their  jjortion  in  due  season,  even  as  the  great 
Father-heart,  out  of  its  abundance,  sends  rain  on  the  just 
and  on  the  unjust;  tlie  little  bro(ik  that  summer  and  winter 
went  dancing  and  chattering  down  its  rocky  channel,  where 
in  summer  the  boys  made  a  dam  and  shut  frogs  and  small 
fish  in  its  keeping,  and  all  the  many  events  of  his  child- 
hood's days  are  dee2)ly  impressed  on  the  mind  of  the  man 
of  to-day  in  his  Ohio  home. 

Sophia  Allyii,  born  in  1828,  lived  in  Wellington  and  mar- 
ried Frank  Lewis.  She  died  November  11,  1853,  leaving 
two  children,  a  sou  and  daughter. 

Allyn,  born  in  1834,  married  Joseph  Snow,  Avho 

died,  leaving  her  with  two  children.  She  then  married  a  Mr. 
Shumway  and  died  in  Michigan,  leaving  one  child. 

H.den  Liicretia  Allyn  was  born  in  Ohio  in  1837,  married 
"William  Saxton  and  has  eight  children,  and  now  lives  in 
Humboldt  county,  Iowa. 

Siiphia  Taylor  Allyn  died  August  4,  1852,  aged  50. 

In  ^larch,  1853,  Henry  Allyn  married  Mrs.  Louisa Tiflany, 
widow  of  Timothy  Tiilany,  whose  maiden  name  was  Louisa 
Hart,  she  being  second  daughter  of  Josiah  Hall  Hart. 
Mr.  Allyn  lived  with  this  second  wife  seven  years  and  di  d 
August  3,  18G0,  aged  G8  years  and  4  months.  His  widow 
then  went  to  Detroit,  Micliigau,  to  live  with  a  sou. 

Tlieie  is  a  traiHlion  in  the  families  who  spell  their  name 
Allyn  that  two  brothers  came  from  England  and  located  in 
AVindsor,  and  one  of  them  wishing  to  distinguish  his  pro- 
geny spelled  his  name  differently  from  the  old  familiar  way, 
he  speliing  that  of  himself  and  family  Allyn,  while  his 
broihtr  still  retained  the  old  way  of  Allen,  and  in  this  way 
their  descendants  could  be  readily  traced. 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  25 

MATTHEW  ALLYN. 

Matthew  Allyn,  the  third  sou  of  Pelatiah  and  Mary  Aim 
Allyn,  was  born  April  1(!,  171)i.  He  married  Clara  iNIerrell, 
daughter  of  John  Merrell,  who  was  born  October  12,  17U4. 
They  were  married  May  8.  181G.  They  lived  at  the  old 
homestead,  which  was  a  large,  old-fashioned  house,  and 
here  nine  children  were  born — ^Matthew  Jr.,  Maik,  John, 
James,  Mary,  Pelatiah,  Phiiieas,  George,  and  Ann.  Tiiey 
commenced  naming- their  children  Bible  names— Matthew, 
Mark  (skipping-  Luke),  John,  etc.  When  they  used  to  at- 
tend school  on  the  gieen  the  boys  would  call,  "  Matthew, 
Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  take  a  stick  and  tuck  it  on." 

In  1835  Mr.  Allyn  sold  his  farm  in  Barkhamsted,  taking 
in  part  payment  wild  timber  land  in  Ohio,  and  emigrated 
thence,  going  by  the  Erie  Canal  and  lake  steamers.  For 
two  years  after  reaching  Ohio  he  lived  in  the  towns  of 
Hiram  and  Freedom,  and  then  made  a  settlement  in  Wel- 
lingtoii,  Lorain  county.  He  moved  his  goods  with  teams, 
driving  his  cows,  two  in  number.  The  roads  were  new  and 
very  muddy,  it  being  in  the  month  of  June.  They  enteied 
the  town  from  the  east  side,  and  his  land  laj'  in  the  north- 
east part,  but  they  were  obliged  to  go  live  miles  around  to 
get  one  and  a  half  miles.  He  sent  Mary  and  Pelatiah 
through  the  woods  with  the  two  cows,  as  they  could  get  to 
their  destination  in  a  nuich  shorter  time  than  to  follow 
around  the  traveled  road.  There  was  only  a  narrow  foot- 
jDath  through  the  woods  marked  by  blazed  trees,  but  the 
distance  by  this  route  was  only  two  miles  and  the  boy  and 
girl  went  alone,  picking  their  way,  and  came  out  safe  ou 
the  opposite  side,  where  they  waited  several  hours  for  the 
remainder  of  their  company.  The  little  Mary  was  twelve 
years  old,  and  her  brother  two  years  younger.  They  slept 
on  the  floor  of  a  neighl)or's  log  house  while  their  own  was 
being  built,  and  this  neigid)or  gave  the  children  some  pump- 
kin pie,  which  a  woman  of  to-day  allirms  to  be  the  "best 
pie  she  ever  titste<l." 

Two  more  chihlren  were  born  in  Ohio — Albert  and  Cal- 
vin— m^  king  a  f.imily  of  eleven  children,  nine  sons  and  two 
daughters,  to  whom  I  wdl  introduce  my  readers  as  my 
sketch  of  ^[altlifw  Allyn  and  family  progresses.  He  served 
five  termsin  llie  Connecticut  legislature  from  B.-irkhamsted. 
He   was  ;i  colonel  of  militia  in   the  war  of  1812,  and  was 


26  'fHE    ALI.YN    FAMILY. 

also  justice  of  tlie  i)eiice  uud  ti)\vii  clerk.  It  is  said  of  liiui 
that  he  was  a  "  natural  scholar."  His  advantages  for 
schooling  were  limited,  but  it  was  hard  to  puzzle  him  ou  a 
matliematical  problem.  He  was  somewhat  eccentric,  en- 
joying jokes  in  a  manner  peculiar  only  to  himself.  His 
laugh  always  came  after  every  one  else  had  ceased  laughing, 
an(l  then  he  would  laugh  long  and  loud. 

During  the  journey  from  Barkhamsted  to  Ohio  Matthew 
AUvn  took  a  severe  cold  which  settled  in  his  eyes,  and  not- 
withstanding that  remedial  means  were  resorted  to,  the  re- 
sult was  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  he  was  shut  in  dark- 
ness, from  all  the  many  beauties  which  God  in  his  goodness 
has  scattered  abundantly  on  every  hand  to  please  the  eye 
and  gladden  the  heart  of  every  child  of  earth,  without  re- 
gard to  rank  or  station.  Thirty  years  of  almost  total  blind- 
ness! Going  as  a  pioneer  into  the  wilds  of  Ohio,  it  left 
great  care  upon  the  wife  and  mother,  who  heroically  placed 
her  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and  with  the  assistance  rendered 
by  her  brave  sons  the  "  wilderness  blossomed  as  the  rose." 

Matthew  Allyn  was  a  great  reader,  and  to  be  deprived  of 
this  blessed  privilege  was  a  source  of  great  sorrow,  and  he 
labored  under  a  severe  nervous  prostration;  so  his  children 
read  to  him  always  evenings  and  all  the  spare  time  they 
could  get,  which  was  a  source  of  benefit  to  them  all, 
as  most  of  his  children  were  remarkably  fine  readers.  He 
was  a  man  beloved  b}'  all  who  knew  him,  and  was  always 
called  Colonel  Matthew  Aliyn.  He  possessed  sterling  qual- 
ities, high  moral  principle  and  a  Christian  character,  which 
he  sustained  through  many  seasons  of  severe  trial.  He 
died  January,  18G2,  aged  G8  years. 

Clara  Merrell,  the  wife  of  Matthew  Allyn,  was  considered 
quite  handsome  in  her  girlhood.  At  that  period  the  ladies 
when  invited  to  ride  by  a  gentleman  were,  from  the  custom 
and  necessity  of  so  doing,  obliged  to  ride  either  on  a 
blanket  or  pillion  behind  their  escort.  Some  were  graceful, 
easy  riders;  others  were  timid  and  would  ofttimes  fall  off. 
Ou  one  occasion  there  was  to  be  a  great  party  at  the  Up- 
son house,  now  known  as  the  'Squire's  house,  between  Riv- 
erton  and  Pleasant  vallej'.  All  the  young  people  far  and 
near  were  invited.  Clara  Merrell  made  one  of  the  number, 
riding  behind  her  beau  on  a  nice  blanket  of  her  own  work- 
manship. After  leaving  Pleasant  valley  they  thought  best 
to  whip  up  the  horses  and  ride   across   the  flat,  coming   to 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  27 

the  Upsou  mansion  in  style.  The  whips  were  brought  into 
requisition  and  away  went  the  horses  and  merry  riders. 
Soon  one  of  the  number  was  missing  and  one  gent  found 
himself  without  a  partner.  The  horses  were  brought  to  a 
standstill  and  Clara  Merrell  was  found  to  have  fallen  off. 
An  aged  lady  tells  me  that  whoever  invited  Clara  Merrell 
to  ride  horseback  was  obliged  to  keep  his  horse  from  a  can- 
ter or  else  she  would  change  her  seat  from  the  saddle  to 
one  on  the  ground  in  a  short  time. 

It  is  said  of  this  most  noble  and  worthy  Christian  woman 
that  "  none  knew  her  but  to  love  her."  She  was  for  many 
years  a  teacher  in  the  Sunday-school,  until  a  short  time 
before  her  death,  and  the  children  for  miles  knew  her  and 
were  strongly  attached  to  her.  The  last  time  she  visited 
the  home  of  her  birth  she  met  the  friends  of  her  A-outhful 
days,  some  who,  like  her,  had  come  from  a  distance  to  view 
once  more  the  familiar  scenes  of  "  auld  lang  syne."  The 
writer  of  these  reminiscences  well  remembers  the  days  of 
visiting;  the  stories  that  were  passed  from  lip  to  lip;  the 
m-erry  laugh  that  followed  the  recital  of  each;  the  songs 
they  sang  when  life  was  full  of  laughter  and  sunshine,  and 
the  yet-unborn  future  seemed  full  of  promise  and  bright- 
ness; but  the  voices  then  were  full  of  the  old-time  songs  of 
praise  and  trembled  with  age,  and  each  one  was  a  prayer  as 
it  ascended  to  the  throne  of  the  Great  I  Am. 

Change  has  visited  each  one  since  then.  Time's  wheel 
has  turned  over  and  over,  and  carried  with  it  at  each  revo- 
lution some  to  far  western  homes;  some  have  passed  ou 
into  the  dark  and  mysterious  portals  of  Death,  while  others 
sit  in  darkness  and  sorrow,  bereft  of  home,  of  friends,  and 
of  sight. 

Clara  Merrell  Allyn  died  in  August,  187G.  An  obituary 
notice  of  her  death  occupied  three  columns  in  length  in  the 
Wellington  En't'rprisa ;  also  a  shorter  one  was  presented 
through  the  columns  of  the  Adiuiucc,  which  will  show  my 
reailers  the  love  and  esteem  the  people  of  Wellington  and 
vicinity  cherished  for  her: 

"  Died  at  the  home  of  her  son,  Pelatiah  Allyn,  in  north- 
east Wellington,  September  1-4,  1S7G,  Mrs.  Clara  Allyn, 
widow  of  Colonel  ^Matthew  Allyn,  deceased.  All  knew  and 
loved  '  Grandma  Allyn.'  It  is  believed  that  her  name  is 
as  intimately  and  necessarily  blended  with  important  inter- 
ests of  Wellington  as  any  on  the  record  of  its  existence. 


28  'lin:    AI.I.VN    I-AMIIA'. 

"  C'(j1(jiic'1  INIattliew  Allyii  hikI  wife  with  Iheir  lar^e  family, 
ftt  a  very  early  day,  ciiiue  from  New  Enfflaud  and  settled  in 
this  towiisliip,  making  out  of  the  wilderness  the  home 
where  the  deceased  died.  Upon  the  introduction  of  this 
family  to  the  then  sparse  community  it  was  believed  that  an 
ac([iiisition  of  unusual  interest  was  made,  and  this  belief  the 
future  proved  well  founded.  Colonel  Allyn's  character  i)ar- 
took  larj^ely  of  liberalized  sentiment  and  personal  research, 
while  his  wife  bore  in  birth,  education,  and  persistent  habits 
all  the  sterling  qualities  of  a  cultured,  conscientious  New 
England  lady  and  matron. 

"  'J'his  family  became  quite  numerous,  and  their  children 
were  sj)iriteil  and  ambitious — all  workiijg,  useful,  and  in- 
telligent people,  Avhile  some  compel  recognition  of  unusual 
merit  in  literary  and  business  attainments. 

"But  to  return  more  particularly  to  a  brief  notice  of  the 
deceased.  A  word  for  her  is  as  ample  as  many,  for  she 
lived  sacred  in  the  memory  of  all  who  have  known  her. 
'Tis  said  'Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast.' 
"With  neighbors,  friends  —  everybody  —  Grandma  Allyii's 
presence  increased  hope  and  courage  and  brought  sliame  to 
despondency.  Purity  of  purpose,  persistency  of  effort,  with 
eiVcrvescing  vivacity,  were  haliitual  characteristics  of  a  life 
God  had  permitted  to  be  of  a  very  great  age. 

"It  maybe  safely  asserted  the  going  out  of  no  other 
presence  in  this  conjmunity  could  be  more  sadly  missed. 
Her  inspiring  enthusiasm  and  religious  zeal  have  promi- 
nently lined  this  ommunity.  The  Sabbath-school  was  with 
her  a  great  delight  and  duty;  all  its  interests  have  been 
constantly  served  by  her.  Duty  conquered  unusual  obsta- 
cles, and  storms  and  other  inclemencies  of  weather  were 
never  permitted  to  obstruct  her  way  to  her  classes.  She 
always  had  a  class. 

"  Many  stalwart  men  near  and  far  ofl"  in  the  bustle  of  life 
will  learn  of  the  death  of  '  Grandma  Allyn '  with  dimmed 
eyes  and  quivering  lip.  Her  presence  and  spirit  had  made 
them  love  the  Sal)l>ath-school.  Her  varied  ways  had  lured 
to  those  enchanted  places,  and  religious  convictions  by  her 
inspired  heart  blended  with  unusual  love  of  the  teacher  and 
lasting  memory  of  her  spiritual  power.  "We  loved  to  meet 
her  always.  In  her  presence  the  thoughtless  were  different, 
the  sinning  rebuked,  the  good  better.  AVe  love  to  remem- 
ber her;  we  love  to  '  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed.'    She  has 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  29 

lived  tbrougli  the  lights  and  shadows  of  eighty-three  years 
and  eleven  months,  and  now  her  sons  and  daughters,  men 
and  women  far  down  on  life's  walk,  like  the  people  of 
AVellingtou,  rise  up  and  with  one  voice  call  her  blessed, 
blessed  mother." 


MATTHEW     ALLYN'S     FAMILY. 

Matthew  Jr.,  the  oldest  son  of  Matthew  and  Clara  Mer- 
rell  Allyn,  was  born  February  17,  1H17,  and  in  183G  mar- 
ried Miss  Diana  Kingsbury.  He  engaged  in  mercantile 
life  in  AVellington,  Ohio,  and  died  in  1851,  leaving  six  chil- 
dren, three  sons  and  three  daughters. 

The  three  sons  died  soon  after  reaching  manhood  of  that 
insidious  disease,  consumption.  The  two  daughters  are 
married.  Mrs.  Ruth  A.  Tuttle  lives  iu  Chicago;  Mrs.  Di- 
ana Smith  in  Topeka,  Kansas.  The  oldest  daughter  mar- 
ried Thomas  Ogden,  who  served  in  the  war  and  was  badly 
wounded.  He  afterwards  served  many  years  ii^  postmaster 
in  Wellington,  Ohio.  She  died  of  consuujption  in  Welling- 
ton, leaving  three  children. 

Mark  Allyn,  the  second  son,  was  born  Novembers,  1818. 
He  was  of  nervous  temperament  and  small  in  stature.  He 
acquired  a  classical  education — read  and  practiced  law.  It 
is  said  that  a  complete  biograpuy  of  the  life  of  this  man 
would  make  an  entertaining  and  readable  volume.  He 
served  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  was  a  man  who  had  seen 
much  of  the  world,  having  made  fiix  trips  to  California  by 
land  and  water,  once  via  Cape  Horn  which  lasted  four 
months.  This  was  in  1849,  and  upon  reaching  California 
he  immediately  engaged  in  mining  and  accumidated  prop- 
erty rapidly.  Once  in  crossing  the  plains  with  a  train  of 
wagons  loaded  with  merchandise,  (two  of  which  were  his), 
they  were  overpowered  by  Indians  and  he  with  a  renjnant 
of  the  party  V>arel3'  escaped  with  their  lives,  leaving  ever}'- 
thing  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  with  many  of  their  com- 
rades dead  on  the  field.  He  returned  to  Ohio  in  ISoo  and 
married  a  Miss  Young,  near  the  classic  shades  of  Hiram 
College,  presided  over  by  the  lamented.  James  A.  Garfield. 
His  married  life  did  not  prove  i)l('asant.  They  had  one  son 
named  Earnest.  He  moved  to  Grand  Travers(^,  ^Michigan, 
and  bought  a  large  tract  of  land,  but  his  health  failed  him, 


30  TUli    ALLYX    I'A^niA'. 

ftiul  lie  came  in  1873  alone  to  the  old  homestead  to  die 
anion^'  liis  loved  ones. 

John  Alljn,  the  third  son,  has  led  an  eventful  life,  and  as 
much  knowledge  of  liim  has  been  placed  at  my  disposal  I 
propose  to  devote  a  chapter  to  his  wanderings. 

James  Allyn,  the  fourth  son,  was  l)orn  January  1,  1822. 
He  married;  and  died  when  but  twenty-four  years  of  age  in 
Wellington  —  his  vocation  being  farming.  He  left  no 
children. 

Mary  Allyn,  the  oldest  daughter,  was  born  June  8,  1824. 
May  13,  1849,  she  married  William  H.  Saxton,  and  resides 
in  Oberlin,  Ohio.  Mary  Allyn  is  of  light  complexion,  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  and  weighs  about  180  pounds.  She  is  a 
genial,  pleasant-faced  woman  of  literary  tastes,  intuitive 
and  original.  On  one  occasion  the  mother  of  Mar}'  was 
beard  to  say-in  reply  to  the  question  as  to  whom  she  looked 
like — "  I  did  n't  see  as  she  looks  like  any  of  the  rest,  but  I 
can  tell  you  whom  she  looks  like,  and  that  is  Betsy  Beach, 
and  a  real  smart-looking  girl  she  was."  Mrs. 'Allyn  did 
not  even  imagine  that  she  was  complimenting  her  daugh- 
ter. Betsy  Beach  used  to  live  down  by  the  Beach  Rock, 
and  it  derived  its  name  from  her  father. 

Mary  Allyn  taught  school  for  a  number  of  years.  Her 
husband  is  b}^  occupation  a  farmer.  They  have  had  five 
children,  four  of  whom  are  living:  Clara  Ardelia,  aged  28; 
married  Judson  Henry.  William  John  is  married  and  has 
three  children.  His  age  is  2G  years.  Arthur  Albert,  aged 
20,  and  Edith  May,  aged  15.  Mary  Allyn  Saxton  lives  in 
Oberlin,  Ohio.  When  she  lived  in  B.arkhamsted,  a  bright- 
eyed  laughing  child,  she  used  to  attend  school  where  Julia 
Beecher  was  the  teacher,  and  now  from  her  Ohio  home  she 
sends  greetings  in  her  own  peculiar  manner  to  her  old  and 
still  fondly  loved  teacher,  in  the  following  jjoetical  effusion: 

"  My  dear  old  teacher  I  loved  so  well, 
I  loved  her  more  than  tougue  can  tell, 
I  loved  her  then,  I  love  her  still, 
I'll  now  express  it  with  a  will." 

Julia  Beecher  used  to  teach  painting  in  her  school,  as  one 
branch  of  education,  and  Mrs.  Saxton  has  cherished  sacredly 
all  these  years,  the  little  "  cards  of  merit  "  Avith  the  signa- 
ture of  her  teacher  and  the  birds  and  flowers  artistically 
done  in    water  colors.   Mrs.   Saxton  is  quite  a  poet,  and 


THK    ALLYN    FAMILY.  31 

when  in  conversation  with  a  friend,  all  unconsciously  to 
herself,  she  entertains  them  with  s[)eciniens  of  her  wit  and 
genius. 

Pelatiah  Allyn  was  born  May  13,  182G.  He  is  tall,  of 
dark  complexion,  and  weighs  about  145  pounds.  He  was 
among  the  early  gold-seekers  of  California.  When  Mark 
Allyn  left  the  Mexican  war,  where  he  had  enlisted  for  the 
United  States  at  New  Orleans,  he  went  to  the  gold  regions, 
reaching  there  with  just  one  dollar  in  his  pocket,  but  in 
one  or  two  years  had  accumulated  quite  a  handsome  amount, 
and  on  his  return  home  the  success  he  had  met  with  in- 
duced his  brothers  Pelatiah  and  Phineas,  as  well  as  some 
of  his  neiglibors,  to  return  with  him.  This  was  in  the  year 
1851.  Pelatiah  remained  in  California  two  years,  and  from 
there  wandered  to  the  Australian  gold  mines,  journeying 
nearly  around  the  globe  ere  he  returned  He  lived  on  the 
Ohio  homestead  until  1881,  when  he  sold  it,  and  emigrated 
to  Hardy,  Humboldt  county,  Iowa.  He  has  been  a  noted 
hunter,  being  very  expert  in  killing  deer  and  smaller  game. 
He  mairied  in  1803  and  has  four  children. 

Phineas  Allyn  was  born  September  'Id,  1829.  He  is  tall, 
of  dark  complexion,  and  weighs  about  150  pounds.  As  be- 
fore stated,  he  went  to  California  in  1851  with  his  brothers 
and  neighbors,  and  after  staying  one  year  returned  home 
with  $1,(J0().  He  is  now  located  at  Duchville,  Michigan, 
and  is  a  prosperous  business  man,  engaged  in  general  mer- 
chandising. He  acquired  a  classical  education  and  was  a 
rare  linguist.  He  married  Celia  ]5utler  in  185-1  and  had 
seven  children:  Celia  B.,  born  in  1855,  Clara  in  1850,  Ar- 
thur T.,  1857,  Julia  11.,  in  18GU,  William  Butler  in  18G3, 
Nellie  in  ]8(;5,  Watson  G..  in  18G8. 

George  Allyn,  bom  December  17,  1831,  died  in  18G0, 
aged  21). 

Ann  Allyn  was  born  July  15,  1834.  Slie  is  of  dark  com- 
plexion and  medium  height.  April  14,  1855,  she  married 
her  ■      "  ..-•.. 


Eilitii  Clarinda,  January,  18(i4;  Jessie  Helen,  July,  1871; 
Hul)ert  Henry,  September,  1874.  Ciiarles  H.  is  married 
and  has  three  children,  and  his  vocation,  like  his  father's, 
is  farming.  Two  of  the  daughters  are  gradiniles  and  one 
is  a  successful  teacher. 


32  'llli:    AI.I-V.N    FAMILY. 

All)orl.  AUyn  w.is  born  July  li),  1837.  Ho  is  of  li^'lit 
coniploxinii.  tall,  und  his  iisuiii  weij^ht  is  about  140  pouuds. 
H(!  sfiidicd  law,  l)ut  in  1881  \\e  n;nioved  to  Diikota,  Aurora 
ctnintv,  |)urrli!isinfif  three  hundred  acres  of  e.xcellent  laud, 
which  he  is  improving',  and  is  in  most  prosperous  circ-uui- 
stanees.  He  naarried  in  ISGl,  and  is  now  living  with  his 
second  wife  and  has  seven  children:  Grace,  born  October, 
ISnj;  Harry  Howard,  180.1;  Hattie  Josephine,  18(57;  Ethie 
ami  Ella,  twins,  187U;  Abbie  Mary,  1877;  Bayard  Taylor, 
LSS2 

Calvin  E.  Allyn,  youngest  son  of  Matthew  and  Clara  Mer- 
rell  Allyn,  was  born  October  10,  1841.  He  is  5  feet  lU 
inches  Idgb  and  weighs  155  pounds.  Is  of  dark  complexion, 
black  hair  and  eyes;  has  a  dignified,  commanding  appear- 
ance; is  aft'able,  courteous,  and  pleasing  in  manners;  is  true, 
just,  charitable,  forbearing,  trustful,  ])atient,  cheerful,  and 
religious — a  man  of  advanced  thoughts  and  progressive 
ideas.  He  is  a  man  i)f  tine  literary  taste  and  culture,  strong 
])()W('rs  of  njind,  and  has  the  love  and  esteem  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  resides.  July  8,  18G1,  he  mairied  Bina  L. 
Joyc->,  daughter  of  Justice  Joyce  of  Wellington,  Ohio,  be- 
fore he  was  twenty  years  old,  his  bride  being  but  seventeen, 
but  the  war  news  tired  his  blood  as  it  had  his  father's  fifty 
years  before,  and  he  enlisted  the  following  Sejjtember  in 
the  2d  Ohio  volunteer  cavalry,  in  which  he  served  a  littl-e 
over  three  years,  two  years  of  which  was  active  service  in 
the  lield  in  Missouri,  Kansas,  Arkansas,  Indian  Territory, 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  he  taking  part  in  twenty  engage- 
ments without  harm  except  gun  shots  through  his  clotljing. 
His  last  year  of  service  was  as  chief  clerk  in  the  Ordnance 
Department  at  Headquarters  Department  of  the  Ohio,  at 
Knoxville,  Tennessee.  When  his  term  of  service  had  ex- 
pired he  hastened  home  to  his  wife  and  mother,  refusing  a 
salary  of  $1,200  per  year  to  return,  as  the  ties  of  home  were 
stronger.  His  father  in  18(51  had  sent  his  youngest  boj- 
into  the  face  of  death  with  a  "  God  bless  you  and  keep  you," 
and  when  the  son,  who  had  seen  his  brave  comrades  fall 
dtad  all  around  him,  returned  himself  unhurt  to  the  home- 
nest  the  voice  of  his  father  did  not  reach  him  welcoming 
home  the  wanderer,  for  in  18(52  he  had  finished  the  great 
battle  of  life  and  with  the  ebbing  of  the  tide  he  had  reached 
the  end  of  the  walk  from  which  no  wayfarer  returns. 

in  the  fall  of  1804  Calvin  Allyn  with  his  wife,  moved  to 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  33 

Cleveland,  Ohio,  and  forming  a  copai'tnership  with  his 
brotlier  Albert  he  bought  a  stock  of  merchandise  and  en- 
gaged in  trade,  but  sold  out  again  in  a  few  months,  when 
he  accepted  a  position  in  a  lumber  yard  as  salesman,  in 
which  business  he  has  been  employed  since  (the  last  four- 
teen years  as  book-keeper),  and  at  present  is  a  silent 
partner  in  the  firm  bearing  the  name  of  "Rust,  King  & 
Clint." 

The  wife  of  Calvin  E.  Allyu  deserves  something  more 
than  a  passing  notice.  She  is  a  woman  who  quickly  gains 
the  friendship  of  every  one  who  is  brought  into  the  genial 
atmosphere  of  her  presence.  None  know  her  intimately 
but  to  love  her,  she  being  an  intellectual  and  highly  accom- 
plished lady.  She  is  widely  known  for  her  charitable  and 
benevolent  deeds;  is  a  i)rominent  member  of  the  "  Woman's 
Temperance  Missionary  Society;"  has  written  and  read  sev- 
eral pajjcrs  before  the  society  on  the  work  in  China,  India, 
and  tlie  Zenana  scIjooI  in  Africa,  which  have  been  liighly 
complimented.  They  have  had  five  children.  The  two 
oldest  died  when  the  little  flowers  were  but  mere  buds,  one 
little  sunbeam  removed  from  their  daii}'  life  at  fifteeu 
months,  the  other  at  two  years  and  two  months.  Ettie  E., 
born  July  21,  1805;  Nellfe  A.,  February  16,  18G7;  Gertie 
S.,  June  3,  1870^  Howard  E.,  February  G,  1872,  and  Ruth 
M.,  January  19,  1874.  These  children  are  all  lovely,  are 
well  advanced  in  school,  and  Gertie  is  very  proficient  in 
music,  playing  the  piano  finely, 

JOHN  ALLYN, 

the  third  son  of  Matthew  and  ('lara  iMerrell  Allyn,  was 
born  on  the  ancestral  homestead  in  Barkhanisted,  August 
29,  18'2(),  As  soon  as  old  enough  he  assisted  in  the  farm 
work  during  the  summer  season,  and  attended  the  district 
school  during  the  winter  months.  At  an  early  age  he  ex- 
hibited a  studious  turn  of  mind,  was  shy  and  retiring, 
and  iidierited  a  strong  tendency  to  sick-headache  wiiich 
was  so  violent  as  to  cause  vomiting.  He  also  inherited  a 
feeble  constitution,  small  lungs,  which  have  a  tendency  to 
cause  the  fear  of  consumjition,  but  by  care  and  temperate 
habits,  regular  and  moderate  activity,  he  at  the  present 
time  enjoys  uniformly  a  good  degree  of  vigor  and  com- 
fortable health. 


M  THE    AM.YN    lAMILY. 

AVIicii  lie  was  fifteen  yeuis  old  his  father  sold  the  farm  in 
Biukhiiiiisted  and  moved  to  Ohio,  as  before  stated,  and 
owin^'  to  the  <,'reat  calamity  which  fell  upon  the  family,  in 
the  hjsH  of  sifj^ht  to  the  husband  and  fatlier,  much  labor 
and  responsibility  was  necessarily  thrown  upon  John,  which 
he  met  right  manfully,  realizin;^'  that  the  welfare  of  the 
fanuly  depended  largely  upon  his  exertion.  He  helped  to 
build  a  log  house,  clear  a  farm,  plant  an  orchard,  build  and 
run  a  saw-mill,  and  was  thus  employed  until  he  reached 
his  twentieth  birthday.  He  had  an  active  mind,  a  retentive 
memory,  was  quick  to  learn,  and  had  been  by  both  fatlier 
and  mother  encouraged  to  cherish  the  hope  that  he  might 
acquire  a  collegiate  education.  He  loved  study  for  its  own 
sake.  His  thirsty  mind  was  continually  reaching  out  for 
wisdom  and  knowledge,  but  being  fully  conscious  of  the 
inability  of  his  parents  to  gratify  his  desire,  at  the  age  of 
twenty  his  father  gave  his  consent  that  he  should,  if  pos- 
sible, educate  himself — he  to  render  assistance  if  it  were  in 
his  power  to  do  so. 

This  young  man  took  up  bravely  the  battle,  determined 
to  possess  the  desiied  prize.  He  spent  two  years  in  Ober- 
lin's  preparatory  school,  supporting  himself  by  working 
two  or  three  hours  a  da}'  in  summer  and  teaching  in  winter. 
He  then  went  to  Quincy,  111.,  and  continued  to  pursue  his 
classical  studies  ;  read  a  thorough  course  of  law,  was  ad- 
mitted to  practice  in  the  supreme  court  in  May,  1846,  mostly 
su])portiug  himself  through  it  all.  Not  being  satisfied  with 
this,  he  resolved  to  pursue  a  course  of  theological  studies, 
and  for  that  purpose  went  to  Lane  Theological  Seminary, 
at  Cincinnati. 

Before  entering  this  seminary  he  studied  by  himself  three 
mouths,  and  was  fully  qualified  to  enter  the  second  year, 
and  was  then  permitted  to  do  so,  comijleting  the  three  years' 
course  in  a  little  more  than  two  years,  supi^orting  himself 
in  the  mean  time.  At  his  graduation  he  was  granted  the 
valedictory  address,  an  indication  of  the  highest  position 
in  scholarship  of  the  class. 

This  school  at  the  time  was  somewhat  celebrated,  being 
})resided  over  by  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher;  and  Professor  Stowe, 
husband  of  Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe,  of  "Uncle  Toms  Cabin" 
fame,  was  a  professor  in  the  same  institution.  Feeling 
that  he  had  made  great  achievements,  he  did  not  deem  it 
wise,  as  he  found  by  this  constant  labor  and  close  ajDplica- 


THE    ALLYN    FAMIf.Y.  35 

tion  to  study  that  he  bad  impaired  bis  bealtb.  He  was  tbeu 
licensed  by  the  Ciuciuuati  Presbytery  and  entered  ui)OU 
Lis  duties  as  a  Christian  minister.  He  was  by  nature  and 
training'  fluent  of  speech  and  loved  his  work,  but  he  found 
bis  mind  uudergoino;  a  change,  and  a  radical  one.  He  d  d 
not  consider  the  theology  sound,  and  passed  tlirougb  a 
severe  mental  struggle.  He  knew  be  would  be  misunder- 
stood, his  motives  suspected,  and  his  chances  of  advance- 
ment and  settlement  much  imjjaired,  but  with  his  con- 
science upbraiding  Inm  be  resolved  to  manfully  meet  his 
struggle  with  duty,  and  abandon  the  profession  he  could 
not  countenance  and  adorn,  and  once  taking  the  step  he  has 
never  looked  back  u])on  it  with  regret. 

He  then  returned  to  Illinois  and  taught  in  the  public 
schools  for  some  time,  and  next  commenced  the  practice 
of  law  in  Carrolltou.  In  the  fall  of  1850  he  wrote  an  es- 
say on  the  "Will  and  Moral  Nature,'"  which  was  higldy 
commended  by  learned  men.  and  be  gave  it  to  the  j)ublic 
in  an  attractive  form,  but  it  proved  too  metaphysical  to  be 
popular.  At  this  period  he  suffered  for  months  with  de- 
bility and  various  forms  of  malarial  fever. 

In  the  spring  of  1851  he  went  to  California  by  ocean  and 
the  isthmus  of  Panama,  going  b}'  open  boats  and  mules 
where  DeLesseps  is  now  building  the  ship  canal.  He 
hoped  by  this  change  to  im^^rove  his  health  and  fortune, 
but  had  no  idea  of  acquiring  great  wealth,  or  of  remaining 
in  the  country  more  than  a  year  or  two.  He  took  the  first 
ship  for  San  Francisco,  which  was  wrecked  and  put  back 
for  repairs.  The  next  voyage  was  successful,  and  he  jno- 
ceeded  directly  to  the  mines,  which  he  reached  foot-sore, 
destitute,  in  feeble  health  and  $400  in  debt.  "Whatever 
his  hands  found  to  do  he  did  it  with  a  will,  like  thousands 
of  others,   without  regard  to  station  or  education. 

AVhen  the  fall  rains  came  he  was  obliged  to  give  up 
mining,  not  having  strength  requisite  for  the  severe  labor 
which  it  involved.  He  then  engaged  in  making  macliinos 
for  washing  gold,  at  which  he  secured  some  capital,  which, 
with  his  brother  Mark  as  partner,  he  invested  in  merchandis- 
ing in  the  town  of  Sonora,  where  he  remained  until  1855, 
when  he  returned  to  Illinois  and  nnirried  Miss  Soi)hia  Hob- 
son,  of  Green  county,  and  returned  to  California. 

He  had  one  sou,  Charles,  who  is  now  al)out  twenty-seven 
years  old,  and  is  working  in  the  Star  printing-oliice.     This 


3G  TMK    ALI.YN    FAMILY. 

nmrriiif^e  was  most  iinforf.nnute,  and  resulted  in  a  separa- 
tion and  divoice.  He  left  all  business  and  went  on  a 
mining,'  trip  up  Frazer  river  in  British  Columbia.  Not 
nicetiiiicf  with  mncli  success  he  settled  in  Victoria  and  ac- 
rpiircd  some  real  estate  which  soon  became  valuable.  In 
1S(U)  he  returned  east,  spent  the  winter  in  Ohio,  and  in  the 
sprinj,'  he  married  Miss  So])hronia  Scott,  (biiifjchter  of  the 
late  William  Scott,  Esq.,  of  Peterl)oro,  N.  H.,  June,  18G1, 
b}'  whom  he  had  twin  dauj^hters,  both  dyin*:^.  This  wife, 
bein<i^  an  intelligent  and  thrifty  New  Kngland  woman,  proved 
a  blessing  and  a  helpmeet. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  tliey  sailed  for  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  on  the  ])assage  formed  the  acquaintance  of  the 
collector  of  Puget  Sound  district,  who  engaged  them  to 
superintend  the  U.  S.  Marine  Hospital  at  Fort  Towusend, 
W.  T.  After  filing  this  engagement  they  passed  over  to 
Victoria  and  made  improvement  to  the  property  there,  but 
finding  the  place  slow,  in  18G3  he  sold  out  and  removed  to 
Oakland,  Cal.,  where  he  engaged  in  real  estate,  meeting 
with  great  success,  and  in  a  few  years  had  acquired  a  hand- 
some competence. 

About  18(!8,  when  their  little  daughters  were  removed  by 
death,  the  strong  winds  brought  bronchitis  to  Mr.  Allyn, 
and  he  was  forced  to  seek  a  milder  climate,  which  he  found 
in  St.  Helena,  sixty  miles  north  of  San  Francisco. 

During  his  stay  in  the  east  in  18G0  he  studied  dentistry, 
which  he  practiced  in  the  Marine  Hospital,  and  afterwards 
in  San  Francisco,  in  connection  with  his  real  estate  deal- 
ings, and  now  having  gained  a  competence,  he  is  called 
to-day  a  rich  man  at  63  years  of  age.  "Within  the  cor- 
porate limits  of  St.  Helena  he  has  purchased  twenty 
acres  of  line  land,  unimproved  except  a  vineyard  of  twelve 
acres,  which  he  has  cultivated  with  great  success.  In  1880 
9G  tons  of  grapes  grew  on  it,  which  sold  for  $2,400.  He 
built  his  fine  residence,  opened  an  avenue  through  it  and 
planted  a  row  of  eucalyptus  trees  on  each  side,  some  of 
whicli  are  now  18  inches  in  diameter  and  50  feet  high. 

^Ir.  Allyn  has  never  sought  political  life,  but  served  in 
Sonora  as  alderman,  and  in  St.  Helena  as  town  trustee, 
and  for  the  past  five  years  as  school  ti  ustee. 

In  personal  appearance  Jolm  Allyn  is  tall  and  thin,  five 
feet  ten  inches  high  and  weighs  130  pounds.  He  is  slow  in 
making  up  his  mind  in  important  matters,  but  of  great 


THE    ALLYN    FAMILY.  37 

tenficity  of  purpose  when  he  reaches  a  conclusion.  Al- 
though feeble  in  physical  constitution,  he  is  possessed  of 
great  tenacity  and  reactive  force. 

This  sketch  of  his  life  will  give  my  reader  suflficient  in- 
dication of  the  restlessness  of  his  disjxisition.  From  slieer 
weariness  of  quiet  village  life,  in  1875  he  went  to  San  Fran- 
cisco to  engage  in  the  excitenient  of  mining  stocks,  where 
lie  found  even  more  of  this  than  lie  had  imiigined.  For  six 
months  during  the  Bonanza  excitement  he  was  in  the  board 
of  brokers  eveiy  day,  and  saw  fortunes  made  and  lost  at 
every  turn  of  the  market.  Feelii'g  that  this  partook  too 
much  of  the  character  of  gambling,  he  returned  to  St. 
Helena.  He  depended  upun  himself  and  has  reached 
his  present  attainments  and  fortune  by  his  own  efforts,  un- 
aided by  capital,  or  the  influence  of  others.  He  has  at- 
tained his  ideal  of  life;  has  an  income  sufficient  for  all  his 
wants  and  desires.  His  days  are  d.ivided  thus:  Three  hours 
recreative  labor  in  his  garden  and  vineyard,  three  hours 
reading  and  three  in  writing.  At  59  years  of  age  he  com- 
menced writing  poetry  for  the  press,  and  some  of  his  poetry 
has  become  quite  popular  in  the  locality  in  which  he 
resides. 

In  concluding  this  fainily  history,  the  compiler  will  add 
that  he  does  not  claim  phenomenal  talents  or  achievements 
for  any  member  of  the  family  ;  but  he  does  claim  that  they 
have  been  law-abiding,  industrious,  and  self-respecting 
citizens.  He  deems  the  following  incident  worthy  of 
record  :  At  a  family  re-union,  held  at  the  residence  of 
Homer  Allyn,  in  Wellington,  Ohio,  in  1880,  the  oldest 
representative,  in  an  after-dinner  speech,  said  "  that  he 
had  never  known  one  bearing  the  family  name  to  be  intox- 
icated, or  to  be  arraigned  before  a  court  for  violation  of 
law,  or  to  ask  assistance  of  the  public' 


27,3666 


rniLosoPHY 


Mind  in  Volition, 


Bt  John  Allts. — Published  1851. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"WILL  DEFINED,  AND  QUESTION  STATED. 

1.  The  question  whetber  will  is  free  or  necessitated  in  its 
action,  is  .it  once  the  most  subtle  and  comprehensive  that 
ever  occupied  the  human  mind.  No  question  has  more 
engaged  the  thoughts  and  discussions  of  philosophers  in  all 
ages.  And  in  every  age  and  country  within  the  historic 
period,  the  learned  and  the  unlearned,  practical  men  and 
philosophers,  have  been  nearly  equally  divided.  Aud  yet 
the  idea  of  the  will's  action  seems  to  be  a  key  to  the  science 
of  mind,  of  morals,  an  important  branch  of  theology 
and  penal  legislation.  Important  as  is  this  question,  and 
much  as  it  has  baffled  the  investigation  of  inquiring  minds, 
it  is  a  simple  (|nestion  of  facts  ;  the  facts  are  all  within  and 
around  us,  and  readily  cognizable  by  the  human  faculties. 
After  a  somewhat  patient  course  of  reading  and  laborious 
reflection,  the  whole  subject  seemed  wholly  dili'erent  from 
the  views  presented  by  any  writer  on  the  subject. 

When  most  of  what  follows  was  first  written,  not  the 
slightest  thought  was  entertained  of  its  publication  in  a 
permanent  form  ;  and  this  was  consented  to  only  after 
earnest  solicitations  from  those  whose  judgment  is  cousid- 


WILL    AND    MORALS,  39 

ered  good  in  such  matters.  If  the  conclusions  are  sound, 
they  will  be  useful  ;  if  not,  let  their  fallacy  be  pointed 
out. 

2.  For  near  a  century,  the  Ulcrnti  of  Europe  and  America 
considered  the  justly  celebrated  work  of  President  Edwards 
on  the  will  as  unanswerable.  ^lany  still  think  so,  while 
others  consider  it  entirely  overthrown.  The  work  is  truly 
great.  Such  a  combination  of  literar}'  qualities  can  scarce 
be  found  in  the  compositions  of  one  author,  ancient  or 
modern,  as  is  found  in  Edwards'  work.  The  thought  is 
subtle  and  penetrating,  and  at  the  same  time  wide-spread, 
grasping,  and  exhausting,  the  reasoning  gigantic,  and  still 
many  of  his  conclusions 

"Like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision." 

Some  latent  fallacy  generally  lurks  in  the  premises  or  in- 
ferences which  vitiates  the  conclusion. 

3.  The  gist  and  vital  principle  of  this,  as  of  all  other  ques- 
tions, especially  abstruse  ones,  lie  in  a  ver}'  small  compass. 
For  the  sake  of  brevity,  I  shall  endeavor  to  confine  my  dis- 
cussion to  the  gist,  convinced  that  those  who  will  not  think 
enough  tu  bring  their  minds  to  the  "point,"  will  not  do  so 
with  a  tiresome  mass  of  suburb  recouuoitering.  As  an  im- 
portant ))reliminary  to  the  discussion,  the  reader's  attention 
is  invited  to  the  followiiicf 


DEFINITION    OF    WILL. 

4.  The  will  is  that  power  orfacuVy  of  the  mind  by  mfans  of 
which  the  agent  i.s  controlled  or  controls  his  own  nets  and  men- 
tal slates.  Tlie  will  is  the  mental  power  or  faeulUj  of  willing. 
Willing  or  volition  is  an  act  of  mind  producing  a  muscular 
movement,  or  a  slate  (f  mind  of  similar  character,  u-hich  has 
■not  a  muscular  movement  for  its  object,  and  in  ivhich  all  llie 
other  faculties  concur  peaceably  or  forcibly. 

President  Edwards'  definition  of  will  is  not  much  difTer- 
ent.  He  says:  "  The  will  is  that  l)y  which  the  nniid  chooses 
anything.  Tlie  facidty  of  the  (////  is  that  faculty,  or  power, 
or  principle  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is  capable  of  rhonsing. 
An  act  of  the  will  is  the  same  as  au  act  of  choosing  or  choice." 
Essay  on  the  Will,  page  2. 

Mr.  Locke  says,  "  The  will  signifies  nothing  but  a  power 


40  WILI-    AND    MOUALH. 

or  iihiVily  io  pn^/'i'r  or  chooio'." — Ilnmaa  Uadi'mlandiur/,  llh 
tuL,  rol.  /,  piKj*"  I'.'T. 

5.  The  atti'iitive  reader  will  observe  that  in  this  defini- 
tion no  attempt  is  made  to  determine  the  question. whether 
the  will  is  a  distinct  organ  or  faculty  of  mind,  exercising  in 
its  acts  ft  giveji  i)art  of  the  mind,  or  the  whole  mind  acting 
in  a  i)articular  manner  or  function.  It  is  not  the  province 
of  the  nietaphvsician  to  determine  which  of  these  is  true  of 
vt)liti()U,  or  of  any  thought  or  feeling.  His  field  is  the 
mind's  conscious  being  and  action;  and  liis  last  appeal  is 
to  consciousness,  which  says  nothing  of  the  constituent 
substance  or  being  of  the  mind.  This  is  purely  a  question 
of  ])hrenology,  and  must  be  determined  by  other  methods 
of  investigation.  It  is  generally  conceded  that  every  move- 
ment of  the  voluntaiy  muscles  is  caused  by  an  act  of  will. 
But  some  volitions  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  physical,  as 
a  willing  to  suppress  a  too  clamorous  desire  by  awakening 
pure  thoughts  and  feelings. 

I  now  invite  the  reader's  careful  attention  to  the 


STATEMENT    OF    THE    QUESTION. 

C.  The  question  is  not  whether  we  "  do  as  we  please,"  or 
whether  in  the  mind's  action  or  volition  we  are  "  governed 
by  the  strongest  motive;"  for  we  have  no  means  of  deter- 
mining the  strongest  motive,  except,  as  President  Edwai'ds 
says,  thatit  "  causes  volition."  Nor  is  the  question  "whether 
we  do  as  God  predetermined  we  should  do."  These,  and 
many  other  issues  that  have  been  made,  do  not  reach  the 
merits  of  the  case.     This  may  appear  in  the  sequel. 

7.  The  true  question  I  conceive  to  be  this:  Is  mind,  in 
its  choices,  volitions,  or  actions,  governed  by,  or  conformed 
to,  the  law  of  causation,  or  is  it  amenable  only  to  the  no- 
law  of  chance?  Is  ever}'  mental  action  a  link  in  the  great 
chain  of  causation  ?  With  given  antecedents,  consisting  of 
the  constitution  and  state  of  the  mind,  and  all  matter  out- 
side of  the  mind  that  comes  in  contact  with  it,  so  as  to  ex- 
ert an  influence  in  the  nature  of  motive,  mual  one  action, 
one  volition  follow,  or  maij  one  or  two  or  moi'e  volitions 
follow?  Does  the  law  of  causation  obtain  in  the  empire  of 
mind  as  it  does  in  the  kingdom  of  matter  ?  To  illus- 
trate— all  intelligent  persons  concede  that  every  particle  of 
matter  is  moved  only  as  it  is  acted  upon,  in  accordance  with 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  41 

the  laws  of  matter,  which  have  been  reduced  to  mathemati- 
cal certainty,  in  many  cases,  by  philoso[)hers.  Tins  is- as 
equally  true  of  the  tornado,  the  volcano,  and  the  cataract, 
as  of  the  apparently  more  regular  movements  of  the  planets 
in  their  orbits. 

Take  a  particle  of  water  as  it  is  condensed  from  the 
night  air  and  assumes  the  globular  form  in  a  dewdrop 
on  the  petals  of  a  rose;  as  morning  advances  it  is  dis- 
persed, arises  in  the  morning  mist,  floats  off  and  is  min- 
gled with  other  clouds,  is  condensed  to  rain  by  a  shaft  of 
electricity  as  it  flashes  across  its  darkness,  falls  on  the 
turbid  bosom  of  the  Niagara,  is  hurried  over  the  falls, 
goes  whirling  and  dashing  among  the  eddies  beneath, 
arises  in  tlje  spray,  floats  off  to  the  land,  is  agjuu  condensed, 
falls,  and  enters  the  circulation  of  a  plant,  and  reappears 
in  nature's  paint  on  the  opening  petals  of  its  flowers.  In 
all  its  mutations  it  moves  only  as  it  is  moved  by  the  forces 
acting  upon  it.  With  given  antecedents,  no  two  motions 
can  ensue.  In  short,  every  motion  of  every  particle  of  mat- 
ter in  the  universe,  is  a  link  in  the  chain  of  causation  which 
uecessarily  connects  it  back  to  the  Great  First  Cause,  in 
the  impulse  imparted  to  it  in  the  first  dawning  of  creation, 
with  the  single  exception  of  miraculous  interposition,  and 
such  matter  as  is  acted  on  by  mind  if  the  will  be  free 
from  law. 

Now  I  conceive  that  the  question  at  issue  between  the 
necessitarian  and  tlie  freedomist  resolves  itself  into  this: 
Is  mental  action  governed  by  the  law  of  causation  ?  or  is 
every  mental  action  caused  by  an  antecedent?  I  do  not 
recollect  of  having  seen  a  similar  statement  by  any  writer 
on  the  subject;  but  it  api)ears  to  me,  after  years  of  refl.  c- 
tion,  to  comprehend  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  to  place  tiie 
subject  in  a  light  easier  to  be  understood,  and  better  a(hq)ted 
to  discussion  than  any  I  have  thought  of.  Tlierefore  I  shall 
discuss  the  question  as  stated.  I  have  been  thus  prolix  in 
the  statement,  because  disputants,  in  the  discussions  of  ab- 
struse questions,  often  differ  merely  because  they  do  not 
understand  each  other's  positions.  I  wish  to  be  understood; 
and  have  taken  thus  much  i)ains  that  those  wishing  to  un- 
derstand need  not  mistiinh'rs/aiKl  or  misrcprrsiuL  In  the 
uext  chapter  I  intend  to  examine  the  argument  of  those 
who  contend  for  the  freedom  of  the  will. 


42  WILL    AND    MOUALS, 

TRUE    ISSUE. 

8.  Siuce  tlio  above  statement  of  the  question  at  issue  be- 
tween tlie  freeJomist  and  necessitarian  was  in  manuscript, 
it  lias  been  i)ronounced  by  those  whose  authority  is  among 
the  first,  a  correct  and  lucid  statement  of  the  true  issue. 
But  as  some  whose  ojiinions  are  entitled  to  consideration 
Lave  expressed  a  doubt  of  its  involving  the  true  issue, 
it  is  thought  best  to  add  a  few  considerations,  which  it 
was  thought  unnecessary  to  embody  in  the  original  state- 
ment. 

The  statement  of  the  question,  is  the  Avill  free,  is  the  will 
necessitated?  is  too  vague  for  philosophical  discussion,  un- 
til it  is  determined  what  it  is  understood  to  be  free  from, 
and  what  controlled  by.  If  we  stickle  for  words,  we  may 
get  such  a  succession  or  concatenation  as  pleases  us,  but 
we  can  never  arrive  at  clearness  of  ideas.  The  word  "  free- 
dom "  in  its  ordinary  meanings,  embodies  the  idea  of  ab- 
sence of  restraint  on  our  desires  or  wills;  but  when  applied 
to  the  mode  of  the  action  of  the  loill  itaelf,  the  meaning 
must  necessarily  be  somewhat  difl'erent.  It  can  scarcely 
amount  to  a  philosophical  question  whetuer  we  are  free  to 
do  as  we  please;  for  though  there  may  be  desires  in  oppo- 
sition to  volition,  yet  what  on  the  whole  pleases  us  best,  we 
will;  and  if  we  are  restrained  b}'  anything  not  acting  as  mo- 
tive from  doing  as  we  will,  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
previous  action  of  the  will  about  which  our  inquiries  apper- 
tain. It  is  not  an  absurd  or  impossible  supposition  that 
both  our  U'i//.s  and  our  pleasure  concerning  them,  are  con- 
trolled in  harmony  with  each  other  by  an  irrefragable  frame- 
work and  chain  of  causation;  or  the}'  may  both  act  in  con- 
formity to  absolute  contingence,  and  yet  in  harmon}'  with 
each  other.  To  determine  which  of  these  is  true,  we  must 
appeal  to  "  the  law  and  testimony"  pertinent  to  the  ques- 
tion. 

It  can  not  be  a  complete  issue  whether  the  will  acts 
"  spontaneously."  The  will  itself  being  an  active  power 
or  princi|)le  of  the  mind,  must  have  greater  or  less  inherent 
power  of  acting;  .•aid  the  will  in  acting  cannot  be  isolated 
from,  but  is  intlnenced  in  the  nature  of,  motive,  by  the  other 
faculties  as  tliey  stand  extant  in  consciousness.  I  confess 
I  do  not  know  what  the  precise  idea  is,  which  is  meant  to 
be  conveyed  by   the  term   "  spontaneity  of  will."     Plants 


WILL   AND    MORALS.  43 

are  said  to  f^row  spontaneously  when  they  are  in(lip;enous 
to  the  soil  aud  have  no  assistance  from  culture;  still  their 
growth  is  according  to  the  law  of  their  own  nature.  But 
whether  the  action  of  the  w'ill  be  according-  to  its  nature,  is 
no  question,  until  it  be  determined  whether  that  nature 
and  organization  for  acting,  be  one  of  law  or  contingeuce. 


CHAPTEK  II. 

THE    FREEDOMISt's   ARGUMENT    EXAMINED. 

Wan  iieitlier  does  nor  can  know  anything  of  mind  or  matter  except 
by  observation.  — Bacon  Transposed. 

d.  I  wish  to  say  in  the  outset  tbat  I  entertain  sentiments 
of  profound  res]x>ct  towards  the  aiUhors  of  whom  I  speak. 
Their  writings  have  done  the  world  great  service.  When  I 
speak  of  their  (sup])osed)  errors,  I  speak  thus  positively 
simply  because  I  think  as  I  say,  and  do  not  wish  to  aflect 
modesty  by  pretending  to  doubt. 

10.  My  readers  (and  especially  those  unaccustomed  to 
analyze  the  mental  powers  and  processes)  ma}'  think  there 
is  unnecessary  hair-splitting,  retinement,  and  subtlet}'.  To 
this  I  answer,  it  is  my  province  to  exhibit  the  strata,  seams, 
and  laminjc  of  the  mental  quarry,  as  the  Creator  has  formed 
and  comi)acted  them.  If  nature  is  refined,  I  must  refine; 
if  I  succeed  in  following  hrr,  I  am  content. 

11.  For  a  long  period  mankind  made  very  little  progiess 
in  science,  because  the  method  of  investigation  indicated  at 
the  head  of  this  chapter  was  not  pursued;  thus  the  intellect 
of  Greece,  Home,  and  the  middle  ages  (and  there  was 
great  power  of  intellect)  was  wasted  to  a  great  extent  in 
fraujing  systems  according  to  their  own  notions,  instead  of 
investigating  how  the  one  we  live  in  is  constituted.  Since 
the  days  of  Galileo,  Baco'n,  and  Newton,  the  iin\'sli(/a/i(>n 
method  has  been  ap})lied,  and  the  progress  in  physical 
science  has  been  unparalleled.  Although  metaphysi(.-ians 
avow  this  method,  I  can  but  attribute  the  slow  progress  of 
mental  science  to  the  influence  of  the  old  together  with  the 
fact  that  the  age  has  become    very    practical   (if  money- 


44  \VII,I-    AND    MOKAI.H. 

niiilv-iii^'  iiist(iii(l  of  liappiiiess-seekin^'  is  practical);  for  tliore 
is  liiil,  poor  i)roHpfM-t,  of  finding  gold  in  the  iniperfectly  ex- 
])lor('d  caverns  of  mind;  a  vein  of  truth  may  be  discovered, 
but  ahiH  !  wlio  will  buy  it?  In  Edwards'  Essay  there  is  but 
little  of  th*)  inductive  method,  and  yet  for  near  a  century  it 
was  thought  impregnable,  and  is  still  clung  to  by  many  of 
the  older  lilrrti/i  with  the  death-grasp. 

12.  All  writers  who  advocate  the  freedom  of  the  will,  or 
lawlessness  of  mind,  rely  almost  solely  on  the  testimony  of 
consciousness  for  i)roof  of  their  position.  Their  other  ar- 
guments are  those  deduced  from  ])remises  which  need  proof 
as  much  a^  their  conclusions.  That  is  their  strongliold, 
their  citadel.  I  shall  therefore  lay  siege  to  it,  for  when  it 
is  conquered,  the  whole  country  is  vanquished;  if  it  is  im- 
pregnable, victory  is  hopeless.  That  consciousness  is  the 
evidence  relied  on,  Prof.  Bledsoe  avows  in  the  first  para- 
graph of  the  last  chapter  of  his  book;  in  which  chapter  all 
his  argument  may  be  found.  President  Mahan  says  (I 
quote  from  memory),  "when  two  objects  are  presented  to 
the  mind  for  choice,  we  are  conscious  of  power  to  choose 
either,  and  if  we  choose  where  there  is  the  stronger  motive, 
we  are  conscious  we  had  the  power  to  have  chosen  the 
other." 

13.  Now  as  the  whole  matter  lies  coiled  up  in  the  word 
"consciousness,"  my  readers  must  e.xcuse  me  for  defininj,'  the 
word — analyzing  the  arguments  so  contidently  deduced 
from  its  testimony,  and  bespeaking  their  careful  attentiou 
thereto.  Consciousness  is  the  term  used  by  the  common 
consent  of  writerson  mind,  to  designate  the  power,  faculty, 
or  act  of  the  mind,  by  which  we  have  kuowledj^e  of  our  own 
present  thoughts,  feelings,  and  volitions,  which  are  the 
constituent  elements  of  mind.  Consciousness  gives  our 
mental  states  as  they  exist  ("/(  ^jra'sen/i  alone;  it  goes  not 
into  the  past  except  by  the  aid  of  memory  ;  it  draws  no  infei"- 
ences,  discovers  iio  laws  of  action,  takes  no  cognizance  of 
things  material  or  mental,  except  our  own  minds.  As  we 
observe  the  form,  color,  and  other  qualities  of  objects  In* 
the  eye  and  the  observing  faculties  of  the  mind,  so  by 
consciousness  we  observe  tlie  qualities  of  our  thoughts, 
emotit)ns,  and  volitions.  By  these  means  we  get  our  facts, 
or  premises.  We  use  the  same  faculties  in  reasoning  from 
mental,  as  from  material  facts. 

li.  By  this  exposition  we  see  that  the  favorite  expression 


WIIL    AND    MOKALS.  45 

of  President  M;ihan  ami  otlier  freedomist  writers,  "we  are 
conscious  of  i)ower  to  do  a  specific  act,"  is  compound,  loose, 
uii|jliilosopbical,  and  oi)en  to  a  crowd  of  fallacies.  We  are 
conscious  of  nothin;^  but  a  mental  st;ite,  which  may  be 
denominated  a  feeling'  of  strength  !  There  are  two  kinds, 
muscular  strength,  and  mental  strength.  We  will  consider 
the  former  first.  To  illustrate,  a  person  using  the  above 
phrase  says  he  is  conscious  of  power  to  lift  two  hundred 
pounds  or  to  labor  six  successive  hours  in  the  garden. 
Con>cionsness  only  gives  him  the  present  feeling  of 
strength  ;  memory  (sometimes  treacherous)  takes  him  back  to 
some  similar  feeling  that  has  existed  heretofore,  they  are 
com})ared  and  ])vonounced  equ.il.  When  the  former  feeling 
existed,  he  did  lift  said  weights,  and  performed  said  labor. 
Here  are  consciousness,  memory,  comparison,  and  expe- 
rience, mixed  up  and  labeled  "consciousness"  by  these 
metaphysicians. 

15.  What  is  denominated  a  consciousness  of  power  to  do 
a  specific  act  is  not  a  simple  "fact  of  consciousness"  which 
neither  needs  nor  admits  of  further  proof;  but  is  a  mere 
^/»/>7•<^.^xlo/(,  opinio)!,  ox  jadf)meul,  made  up  by  the  comj)lex 
action  of  a  large  number  of  mental  faculties.  If  opinions 
are  admitted  as  proof,  what  cannot  be  proved?  This  feel- 
ing of  strength  is  by  no  means  a  criterion  of  muscular  or 
jnental  strength;  for  this  feeling  is  in  the  mind,  and  the 
strength  depends  on  the  state  of  the  muscular  and  nervous 
systems,  which  are  material  objects  not  cognizable  hy 
consciousness  (§  13),  and  very  variable,  but  not  uniforml}' 
so  with  the  feeling  of  strength.  In  the  above  exauiple,  with 
a  certain  feeling  of  strength,  six  successive  hours'  labor 
Avere  i)erformed;  the  person  is  debilitated  by  chills  and 
fever — he  recovers  so  as  to  feel  the  same  feeling  of  strength, 
but  a  short  trial  will  convince  him  of  the  imperfection  of 
the  test.  Mere  mental  strength  is  affected  by  debility  of 
the  nervous  system  in  the  same  way. 

1().  Further:  supi^ose  we  have  one  of  several  objects  to 
clioose;  we  delilnrate,  consider,  and  at  length  choose.  I 
humbly  jisk  by  what  jninciijle  tlie  freedomist  knows  that  at 
the  time  the  choice  is  made  it  was  not  prompted  by  the 
strongest  motive,  or,  as  I  prefer  to  say,  was  not  caused? 
He  answers,  "  Because  I  was  conscious  of  power  to  have 
chosen  the  other;  and  if  the  first  is  the  stronger  and  the 
second  the  weaker,  and  I  had  chosen  the  second,  I  should 


4(5  WILL    AND    MOUALS. 

havo  clinsen  wliere  there  was  tbe  weaker  motive,  and  your 
cliuii:  of  ciiUHution  would  have  been  broken." 

17.  In  addition  to  the  above  analysis  of  "consciousness 
of  power,"  I  answer,  that  the  s/roir/lh  of  motive  is  Ihc  join) 
])ro(lt(rl  of  the  stale  of  mind  aud  tlw.  oljjfcls  itiflueuciri<j  it  at 
the  time  of  choice.  The  external  object  is  no  criterion. 
Five  dollars  may  be  a  great  motive  to  one  man  and  scarce 
a  motive  to  another,  and  a  strong  motive  at  one  time  of  life, 
and  scarce  a  motive  at  another.  The  strengtli  of  motive 
that  an  object  excites  depends  on  the  state  of  mind,  which 
is  not  a  fixed  fact;  it  is  changeable  as  the  colors  of  the 
kaleidoscope.  Suppose  you  had  left  considering  the  one 
you  call  the  stronger  and  considered  the  other  but  for  the 
shortest  period  of  time.  This  brief  consideration  may  have 
•worked  such  a  change  of  your  mental  state  as  to  throw  the 
balance  of  motive  on  the  object  taken,  before  choice  ensued. 
To  illustrate:  A  man  is  offered  ten  dollars  as  a  bribe  to  do 
a  wrong  act;  he  thinks  of  the  appetites  it  would  afford  the 
means  of  gratifying;  they  in  turn  become  excited  and  clam- 
orous; he  is  about  to  accept  when  he  sees  his  father  in  the 
distance;  the  disgrace  he  would  bring  on  his  family,  his 
own  blasted  reputation,  flash  on  his  mind;  the  motive  has 
lost  its  power;  he  spurns  it. 

18.  Prof.  Bledsoe,  alone  of  all  freedomist  writers,  ac- 
knowledges that  we  are  not  even  "  conscious  of  power  to 
act."  Prof.  Bledsoe's  views  approximate  much  nearer  to 
what  I  humbly  conceive  to  be  the  truth  than  those  of  any 
other  freedomist  writer  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  His 
method  of  investigation  is  correct,  and  he  has  pursued  it 
much  further  than  his  predecessors  or  contemporaries,  but 
stopped  short  of  what  appears  to  be  the  whole  truth. 

19.  Presuming  that  my  motives  will  not  be  misconstrued, 
I  will  venture  the  following  opinion  that  he  was  led  to 
error  as  thousands  have  been  before.  It  became  thoroughly 
grounded  in  his  mind  that  his  own  or  his  opponent's  opin- 
ion was  correct;  he  pored  over  it  till  he  aaw  there  was  no 
foundation  for  that  of  his  opjionent.  With  all  the  rejoicing 
of  the  victor  he  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  his  own  was 
true.  Had  he  scanned  his  own  position  as  closelj'  as  he  did 
that  of  his  adversary,  perhaps  he  would  have  seen,  what  I 
thiidc  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  that  there  was  no  truth  in 
either. 

20.  He  says  (page  22G):  ''By  consciousness,  then,  we  dis- 


WILL    AND    MORALS. 


47 


cover  the  existence  of  an  act.  We  see  no  cause  by  which  it 
is  produced.  If  it  were  produced  b}-  an  act  or  oi)eration  of 
anythinf^  else,  it  v/ould  be  a  passive  impression,  and  not  an 
act  of  the  mind  itself.  The  mind  would  be  wholly  passive 
in  relation  to  it,  and  it  would  not  be  an  act  at  all.  Whether 
it  is  produced  by  a  preceding  act  of  the  mind  or  by  the  ac- 
tion of  anything  else,  the  mind  would  be  passive  as  to  the 
effect  produced.  But  we  see  in  the  clear  and  unquestion- 
able light  of  consciousness  that  instead  of  being  passive  the 
mind  is  active  in  its  volitions;  hence  it  follows  by  an  infer- 
ence as  clear  as  noonday  and  as  irresistible  as  fate  that  the 
action  of  the  mind  is  not  a  produced  eflt'ect." 

21.  Here  he  rests  his  cause.  We  are  conscious  the  mind 
acts;  this  I  grant.  This  is  an  ad,  not  an  impression;  if  it 
were  caused,  it  would  be  an  impression,  not  an  act.  As  the 
argument  of  the  whole  bouk  is  converged  to  a  focus  at  this 
point,  let  us  examine  it  with  care.  This  conclusion  is  what 
logicians  call  a  non  sequl/ar.  The  minor  premise,  that  vo- 
lition is  an  act,  is  true;  the  inference,  therefore,  that  it  is 
not  caused  does  not  necessarily  follow.  The  state  of  the 
mind  is  always  included  in  every  legitimate  estimate  of  mo- 
tive (§  17);  if,  then,  this,  including  its  active  nature  and  its 
excitants  in  the  external  world,  are  a  "ground  and  reason 
why  it  acts  as  it  does  rather  than  otherwise,"  they  consti- 
tute a  cause.  By  what  philosophy  is  this  determined  or  de- 
duced from  the  fact  that  the  mind  acts?  Consciousness 
gives  the  ])resent  mental  states  and  acts;  nothing  more,  not 
even  the  laivs  of  mental  action.  The  mind  is  active  iu 
volitions,  but  is  there  an  absurdity  in  the  idea  that 
motive  causes  it  to  act,  or  to  act  as  it  does  rather  than 
otherwise  V 

22.  Prof.  Bledsoe  says  (page  21G):  "No  one  ever  im- 
agined tliat  there  are  no  indispensable  antecedents  to 
choice,  without  which  it  could  not  take  place."  These 
"  antecedents  "  are  in  part  always  motives  external  to  the 
mind,  of  which  consciousness  can  take  no  note.  By  what 
principle,  tlieu,  can  it  be  known  th:it  these  objects  do  not 
sustain  such  a  relation  to  tlie  mind  as  to  constitute  what  is 
termed  the  strongest  motive  or  a  cause  of  the  subsetpient 
aclion?  Can  this  be  done  without  even  an  examination  of 
these  objects?  He  acknowledges  that  there  must  be  an 
antecedent,  but  does  not  examine  it.  He  disposes  of  it 
summarily  by  saying  it  is  not  caused  because  it  is  active. 


48  Wll.r,    AND    MOI'.AI.H. 

23.  WIm'Ii  ii  bull  is  llnowii  ii^niiiiKt  uii  elnstic  substance 
it  acts;  it  is  active  iis  well  as  passive.  Is  Prof.  Bledsoe 
conscious  that  wheu  the  niiiid  acts  it  does  not  act  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  laws  of  mind  as  acted  on  by  these  "in- 
dispensable antecedents,"  which  are  out  of  sight,  to  occa- 
sion them  to  act.  ? 

24.  The  gerujinatiou  of  seeds  affords  a  good  analogy  to 
mental  action.  The  seed  acts — that  is,  there  is  action 
among  the  constituent  particles  of  matter — and  the  genu 
shoots  forth;  there  are  also  some  "indispensable  antece- 
dents" to  its  action.  There  must  be  warmth  and  moisture. 
So,  when  a  needle  is  attracted  by  a  loadstone,  it  (the 
needle)  acts  or  moves.  Suppose  the  seed  and  the  needle 
were  endowed  with  consciousness,  they  might  proudly  say, 
"True,  we  cannot  act  without  antecedents;  but  then  our 
movement  is  an  act,  not  an  imj)ression;  therefore,  b}"  an 
'  inference  clear  as  noonday  and  irresistible  as  fate '  we 
are  free  from  law.  Your  chain  of  causation  is  broken;  it 
lias  no  power  over  us."  I  present  these  physical  cases  as 
illustrations,  not  proofs. 

25.  The  truth  seems  to  be  we  are  conscious  the  mind  acts; 
whether  it  acts  in  accordance  to  the  laws  of  mind  can  only 
be  determined  by  observing  whether  there  is  a  similarity  or 
diversit}'  of  subsequent  acts  after  similar  antecedents.  In 
the  next  chapter  an  original  investigation  will  be  presented, 
when  I  think  the  above  views  will  be  clearer  than  now. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ORIGINAL  INVESTIGATION  OF    THE  JIODE  OF  MENTAL    ACTION  IN  VOLI- 
TION. 

2G.  I  have  now  arrived  at  the  proper  point,  to  present 
the  only  legitimate  mode  of  investigating  this  subject,  by 
ap]ilying  the  Baconian  or  inductive  method,  and  the  re- 
sults of  such  investigation.  The  question  is.  Does  mind 
always  act  in  accordance  with  law,  the  antecedent  being 
such  as  to  cause  the  volition  ? 

27.  These  antecedents  consist  of  the  mental  states  and 
nil  the  matter  that  is  so  related  to  it  as  to  influence  it  in  the 


WILL    AND   MORALS.  '  49 

nature  of  motive,  at  the  time  of  volition  (§  17.)  This 
material  motive  consists  of  the  objects  of  choice  external  to 
the  mind,  and  all  that  orf^anized  matter,  which  (so  to 
speak)  borders  on  and  surrounds  mind,  consisting  mainly 
of  the  nervous  system,  through  which  mind  acts  and  is 
acted  ui)on.  The  quality  and  condition  of  this  latter  so 
varies  the  influence  of  the  former,  that  all  calculations  that 
do  not  take  this  into  tlie  account  are  uncertain.  A  sum  of 
money  is  offered  a  person  if  he  will  commit  perjury;  while 
he  thought  of  the  apj)etites  it  would  gratify,  the  wants  it 
would  suppl}' — he  is  strongl}'  inclined,  or  even  resolved,  to 
accept;  but  with  no  variation  of  anything  external  to  the 
mind,  by  its  own  action  he  considers  the  wrong  it  would  do 
to  some  one,  the  danger  and  disgrace  of  detection,  and 
the  power  of  the  motive  is  materially  changed.  So  sup- 
])Ose  the  mental  state  be  fixed,  and  let  the  bribe  be  in- 
creased from  a  hundred  to  a  thousand  dollars,  and  pos- 
sibly he  might  accept.  And  let  both  remain  fixed,  and  the 
nervous  system  changed  (were  it  possible)  from  a  healthy 
to  a  morbid  tone,  and  no  sagacity  can  predict  the  result. 
Therefore  the  jiower  to  produce  volition  or  strength  of 
motive,  is  the  joint  ])roduct  or  oft'spring  of  the  state  of 
mind,  and  all  external  objects  influencing  it. 

28.  Tiift  question  being  whether  the  antecedents  being 
equal,  the  voHtions  are  always  tlie  same,  it  can  oidy  be  de- 
termined by  observing  the  antecedents  when  equal,  and 
the  subsequent  volition.  With  equal  antecedents,  if  one 
case  of  diverse  volitions  can  be  found,  the  question  is  set- 
tled; the  freedoujists  are  right — the  will  is  free  from  law. 
But  if  no  such  case  can  be  found,  there  is  no  proof  of  free- 
dom; but  how  many  cases  of  equal  antecedents  an<l  conse- 
quents are  necessary  to  evoke  a  principle,  my  readers  may 
judge  for  themselves.  The  difliculties  of  the  investigation 
are  now  sufficiently  ajjparent.  As  a  part  of  the  antecedent 
is  the  state  of  the  mind  at  the  time  of  volition,  it  is  utterly  im- 
possible to  ascertain  that  of  another  with  sufficient  ac- 
curacy for  philosophical  experiment,  by  its  external  num- 
ifestation.  Every  one  must  use  himself  to  experiment  with; 
and  it  may  be  fairly  doubted,  considering  the  almost  in- 
finite con)i)licati()n  of  the  mental  faculties,  whether  the 
same  antecedents  ever  occur  twice  in  the  same  jjersou, 
much  more  a  sufficient  number  of  times  to  establish  a  prin- 
ciple.    But  waiving  this,  in  making  the  observation    the 


60  '  WILL    AND    MOR.VLS. 

wliole  inriital  state  must  l)e  f^ras|)e(l  l)y  consciousness,  and 
liold  firmly  in  the  menjory;  for  the  least  j)liiy  of  fancy  may 
vary  tlie  result.  At  tlie  same  time  the  wliole  field  of  mat- 
ter iiifiuencinpf  the  mind,  iiicliidiny  the  state  of  the  nervous 
system,  must  be  grasjied  by  tlie  observing  faculties,  and 
the  volition  observed.  This  process  is  a  pnttern,  and  must 
all  ill  miinilio'  be  held  in  memor}'.  The  process  of  obser- 
vation and  comi)arison  must  be  carried  on  till  another 
equivalent  state  of  antecedent  is  found,  and  the  volition 
observed.  This  counts  one.  This  must  be  repeated  times 
enough  to  establish  a  principle.  I  confess  that  it  appears 
such  an  investigation  would  require  a  strength  and  a  stretch 
of  the  intellect  beyond  the  power  of  any  living  man;  and 
yet  it  appears  to  be  the  only  direct  method,  reasoning  from 
cause  to  efjtect,  of  settling  this  vexed  question.  There  is 
sufiicieut  circumstantial  evidence  in  favor  of  the  legality  of 
mental  action,  io  vni^e  prima  facie  evidence.  This  will  be 
considered  in  the  next  chapter,  and  if  it  is  made  out,  the 
case  must  stand  adjudged  to  the  law  side,  till  it  is  re- 
butted. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

C1RCUMSTANTI.\L    EVIDENCE. 

29.  Although  the  direct  investigation  of  this  abstruse 
subject  seems  so  fruitless,  there  is  some  circumstantial 
evidence  which  deserves  attention.  The  first  I  shall 
consider  is  the  argument  from  analog^'.  It  is  one  of  the 
first  elements  of  Natural  Philosophy,  and  the  ground  of 
philosophizing,  that  every  particle  of  matter  moves,  or  is 
moved,  in  conformity  to  the  laws  of  matter.  This  is  and 
has  been  the  case  throughout  the  entire  realm  *of  the 
nuiterial  universe,  with  no  exception  but  miraculous  in- 
terposition. That  laxr  prevails  through  one  part  of  the 
same  Creator's  dominions,  seems  to  raise  an  anaU)gy  that 
it  does  in  all  departments.  But  this  is  far  from  being  con- 
elusive.  Analogy  never /)rc»i"(?i;  anything.  Besides, the  nature 
and  operation  of  mind  is  so  diflerent  from  that  of  matter, 
that  the  force  of  the  analogy  is  very  much  weakened.  This  is 
the  sum  total  of  President  Edward^3'  argument  of  cause  and 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  51 

effect.  He  says,  "volition  is  an  effect;  every  eflfect  must 
have  its  cause;  and  that  cause  must  be  motive."  But  ia 
assuniiiifif,  as  lie  ditl,  without  an  attempt  at  proof,  that 
volition  is  an  effect,  he  begged  tlie  whole  question. 

30.  We  will  now  array  the  circumstantial  evidence.  Since 
the  state  of  mind  a!id  external  objects  influencing  it,  or 
motives,  are  the  antecedents  to  volition,  if  the  law  of*causa- 
tion  be  abrogated,  and  they  have  no  causative  power,  it 
irresistibly  follows  that  it  is  impossible  to  form  a  judgment 
or  even  a  probable  guess  what  the  volition  will  be  from  the 
antecedents.  The  action  of  the  will  is  the  merest  chance; 
though  motives  are  piled  like 

"Alps  on  Alps  and  Pyi-enees  beyond," 

choice  is  just  as  likely  to  be  in  an  opposite  direction  where 
there  is  no  motive  at  ail  except  as  an  ol)ject  of  choice,  as 
wliere  there  is  the  greatest  possible  accumulation.  All  the 
means  we  have  of  judging  future  conduct  is  by  observing 
mental  and  material  facts  and  relying  on  the  principle  that 
like  antecedents  produce  like  subsequents.  But  if  this 
principle  fails  in  mind  we  can  form  no  idea  of  future  men- 
tal action  in  any  case. 

31.  The  infinite  mind  of  Deity  might  knoiv  how  mind 
would  act,  for  by  the  hypothesis  of  infinity,  the  past,  the 
l)resent,  and  the  future  are  all  present,  and  that  indepen- 
dent of  the  procuring  cause  of  the  event.  But  ive  who  must 
climb  to  future  events  on  the  ladder  of  causation,  will  at 
once  come  to  the  ground  if  causation  fails.  Now,  is  this 
true  in  mental  action  ?  It  is  either  true  in  whole,  or  true 
in  part,  or  not  true  at  all.  Common  observation  teaches 
that  it  is  not  true  in  whole.  We  know  that  "  human  nature" 
is  a  matter  of  stud^',  or  science  to  some  extent.  Those  who 
are  shrewd,  knowing  the  facts  intluenciiig  the  mind,  can 
tell  with  almost  prophetic  certainty  how  a  peison  or  a  com- 
munity will  act.  And  the  more  accurately  they  know  the 
external  circumstances,  and  the  disposition,  or  mental  state 
of  tiie  person,  the  g'reater  is  their  certainty.  And  further, 
when  men  fail,  they  always  attribute  it  to  a  mistake  or 
ignorance  of  some  inlluence  or  disposition,  and  not  to  a 
failure  of  the  law  of  causation.  These  facts  prove,  being 
inconsistent  with  any  other  hypothesis,  that  the  law  of  cau- 
sation prevails  to  some  extent,  but  with  all  these  facts  it  is 


52  WILL    ANO    MORALS. 

possihlt;  tlmt  witliin  a  liinitecl  spliore  tlie  will  is  free,  and  its 
action  a  niattcr  of  clumee.  But  I  profess  the  iiljove  facts 
pn^sent  a  Imlwark  ol  prima  facie  evidence  wliicli  cannot  be 
rebutted  by  any  argmuent  I  liave  tliougbt  of  or  seen. 

CONCLUSION. 

32.  Eeader,  my  task  (and  youis  if  you  have  followed  me 
tlirougb)  is  done.  I  migbt  bave  extended  and  expanded 
this  essjiy  to  a  much  greater  bulk  with  even  less  labor. 
But  I  wished  to  study  all  the  brevity  consistent  with  per- 
s])icuity.  When  I  began  I  had  no  creed  to  support;  now 
I  have  done  I  have  no  inferences  to  draw*.  I  endeavored  to 
divest  myself  of  all  predilections  and  preconceptions,  and 
address  myself  to  "  nature  as  the  humble  interpreter 
thereof."  I  have  something  to  say  with  regard  to  the  bear- 
ings of  this  essay  on  ethics,  or  theoretical  and  practical 
morality;  but  I  think  best  to  withhold  it  for  the  present 
till  my  thoughts  are  more  mature  and  an  opportunity  shall 
be  presented  which  premises  good.  With  entire  unconcern 
this  essay  is  submitted  to  a  candid  public;  if  it  is  error,  let 
it  i^erish;  if  truth,  it  will  prevail. 


CHAPTER  V. 

RELATIONS    OF    THIS    ESSAY    TO    FATALISM    AND    EXERTION. 

33.  The  doctrine  of  the  foregoing  essay  is  often  supposed 
to  be  connected  with  a  paral3"ziiig,  ruinous  fatalism.  Indo- 
lence and  immorality  argue,  that  if  all  phenomena,  both 
physical  and  mental,  are  bound  up  in  the  iron  chain  of  cau- 
sation, and  the  first  part  actually  transpired,  effort  on  my 
j)art  is  useless,  for  things  will  have  their  course.  However 
groundless  this  maybe,  there  is  a  sufficient  plausibility  in  it 
to  deserve  a  careful  consideration. 

34.  Modern  metaphysicians  have  agreed  in  dividing  the 
mind  into  three  great  departments;  the  intellect,  the  sen- 
sibility, and  the  will;  and  if  they  had  not,  the  reader  could, 
for  his  own  convenience.  The  intellect  is  the  perceiving, 
knowing  department;  the  sensil)ility,  the  department  of 
emotions  and  desires  ;  the  will,  the  department  of  volition. 


WILL    AND    MOIiALS.  53 

Now,  in  all  classes  of  exertion  to  acquire  a  supposed  good, 
tbo  following  process  must  take  place:  First,  the  intellect 
sees  a  supposed  good,  the  desire  is  awakened  to  obtain  it, 
the  will  puts  forth  volitions,  and  a  thousand  muscles  stand, 
like  dumb  slaves  about  a  prince,  to  put  its  mandates  in  exe- 
cution. Then  comes  the  feeling  of  exertion  or  fatigue, 
which  is  nothing  more  than  a  feeling  of  the  mind  conse- 
quent on  a  state  of  the  muscles,  caused  by  their  vigorous 
contraction  and  relaxation.  Now,  as  the  action  of  the  mus- 
cles is  always  after  volition,  and  the  question  between  free- 
domists  a)id  others  is  whether  the  relation  between  the 
sensibility  and  the  will  be  one  of  law  or  chance,  it  will  be 
seen,  in  either  case,  that  in  obtaining  the  desired  good,  ex- 
ertion and  fatigue  is  equally  a  concomitant.  Mere  njental 
exertion  and  fatigue,  or  exertion  of  will,  are  of  the  same  na- 
ture; its  fatigue  i)eing  caused  by  the  matter  of  the  nervous 
system.  To  make  exertion  without  perceiving  what  it  is 
for,  is  to  injmerse  man  in  darkness;  and  if  we  can  make  ex- 
ertion without  willing  to  do  so,  "  we  might  as  well  not  have 
a  will."  As  exertion  and  fatigue  are  the  only  unpleasant 
l^arts  of  the  process  intervening  between  us  and  a  desired 
object,  the  mind  is  occupied  by  these  unpleasant  ])arts, 
and  the  other  acts  of  the  mind  are  overlooked;  hence  the 
error.  If  we  desire  the  accomi)lishment  of  anything,  it 
will  be  done  if  we  make  the  necessary  exertion  (for  exertion 
cannot  take  place  without  the  other  parts  of  the  mental 
process).  And  as  before  observed,  that  exertion  and  fatigue 
are  the  same  concomitants  of  the  acquisition,  whether  the 
will  act  legally  or  not;  and  as  exertion  and  fatigue  come 
after  volition,  the  only  dillerence  is  this:  that  if  the  object 
be  self-improvement  by  awakening  the  mind,  by  thought, 
or  reading,  the  object  when  obtained  becomes  in  turn  a 
motive.  Now  if  the  will  is  goveined  by  causation  it  must 
act,  and  thus  successive  rounds  take  place;  but  if  the  will  is 
free  tl>e  whole  may  stop  with  the  first  object.  So  if  the 
will  be  free  from  law,  the  preacher  or  lecturer  may  i)ly  his 
most  powerful  arguments  with  all  the  talents  of  an  an^'el, 
literally  inflaming  the  emotive  part  of  the  mind;  but  it  is 
all  to  no  purpose;  the  will  is  no  more  likely  to  act  than  if 
no  motive  were  before  it.  But  if  Jaw  govern  the  will,  like 
seed  sown  on  well-prepared  soil,  it  )niis(  produce  its  legiti- 
mate ettects,  unless  counteracted  by  an  intervening  line  of 
causation.     Some  say,  "  I  do  as  I  please,  therefore   I   am 


54  Wir,L    ANI>    MOUALS. 

free."  Wlieii  we  loill,  or  ad,  iiotwitlistaiKling  tliere  are 
Btronf?  motives  to  the  contrary,  we  alwiiys  do  on  the  whole 
ns  wo  please.  This  phrase  means  that  we  are  not  inter- 
rupted by  any  tliinjjf  ah  cxlra,  nothinfif  more. 

35.  The  vulgar  frecpiently  excuse  themselves,  when  re- 
proved for  doin<j^  what  they  know  is  wroiifj,  hy  sayinj^  it  was 
so  fated.  If  yon  have  done  the  deed,  you  are,  like  Zeno's 
slave,  fated  to  receive  the  consequent  punishment;  which  if 
you  are  wise  you  will  recollect  as  a  motive  to  prevent  doing 
the  like  again.  If  you  have  not  done  the  deed,  you  will  so 
consider  the  reproof  that  it  will  become  a  motive,  to  save  you 
from  the  fated  deed  and  fated  punishment;  "  but  fools  pass 
on  and  are  punished." 

3G.  I  do  not  conceive  that  this  question  affects  the  theo- 
logical one  of  predestination  at  all;  for  if  Deity  be  infinite 
in  knowledge  He  must  know-  the  beginning,  middle,  and 
end  of  all  thi^igs  equally,  whether  law  or  chance  reign;  and 
I  have  not  acumen  enough  to  separate  between  foreknowl- 
edge and  predestination,  that  is,  to  see  how  one  can  exist 
and  the  other  not.  But  whether  God  does  or  does  not 
know  and  i<«edestinate  our  end,  makes  not  a  particle  of  dif- 
ference; for  our  state  at  every  successive  step  and  move- 
ment to  all  eternity  would  be  known  and  certain  if  there  was 
a  being  who  had  sagacity  enough  to  foresee  them,  whether 
law  or  chance  reign.  But  our  inquiries  must  relate  to 
^human  minds  and  those  things  and  events  that  surround 
them,  and  not  to  those  of  a  higher  grade.  It  is  a  question 
of  fact;  and  philosophy  here,  as  ever,  coincides  with  com- 
mon sense  ;  if  we  desire  any  object,  nothing  intervenes 
that  need  trouble  us,  but  the  exertion  requisite  to  its  ob- 
tention;  if  we  prefer  our  ease,  we  can  have  it. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ORIGINAL    SUGGESTION    CONSIDERED. 

37.  The  foregoing  essay  has  been  read  in  manuscript  by 
a  gentleman  who  sustains  a  high  reputation  as  a  teacher  of 
mental  science,  and  has  for  years  presided  over  a  popular 
western  college.  He  has  politely  furnished  me  with  an  ab- 
stract of   his  views  of  the  doctrine   advanced.     He  thinks 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  55 

the  qiiestiou  correctly  stated,  und  successfully  overthrown 
as  stated  by  freedoniists;  still  he  thinks  the  doctiine  of  the 
freedoiiiist  can  be  sustained.  His  statement  is,  that  "  we 
are  so  made  that,  at  each  instant  up  to  the  final  act  of  choice 
we  cannot  but  assume  thsit  we  are  free  to  choose  either  the 
one  or  the  other.  It  is  rather  an  original  suggestion  than 
a  consciousness.  The  mind  always  does  believe,  and  must 
believe,  itself  adequate,  all  existing  causation  to  the  con- 
trary notwithstanding,  to  choose  either  the  one  or  the  other. 
My  argument  for  the  freedom  of  the  will  is,  that  such  an 
original  suggestion  never  deceives;  that  what  mankind  are 
so  made  as  necessarily  to  think  true,  and  to  act  on  as  true, 
is  true." 

38,  No  other  definition  is  given  to  the  term  "  original 
suggestion  "  than  can  be  gathered  from  the  above  state- 
ment, Mr.  Upham  says  the  term  is  used  by  Reed,  Stuart, 
and  others,  to  express  the  simple  fact  "  that  the  mind  by 
its  own  activity  and  vigor,  gives  rise  to  certain  thoughts," 
and  "  by  means  of  this  we  have  a  knowledge  of  certain  ele- 
mentary notions,  such  as  the  abstract  conception  of  exist- 
ence, mind,  self-existence,  or  self,  personal  identity,  suc- 
cession, duration,  space,  unity,  number,  power,  right, 
•wrong,  and  some  others.  All  men  possess  these  notions; 
all  understand  them." 

89.  That  there  is  a  power  of  the  mind  to  give  us  these 
notions  (by  whatever  name  you  call  it)  may  be  admitted; 
but  it  is  an  open  question  whether  the  freedom  of  the  will 
from  the  law  of  causation  is  an  original  or  an  artificial  sug- 
gestion. It  is  conceded  that  all  human  beings  either  have, 
or  all  have  not  this  faculty;  if  they  have  it,  some  will  have 
it  in  greater  perfection  than  others.  All  writers  on  n)ind 
agree  that  this  faculty  suggests  the  same  truths  to  all  minds 
not  of  too  low  a  grade  for  its  distinct  action;  certainly  there 
is  no  contra(li(!tion.  If  it  gives  one  man  self-existence,  it 
does  all  men;  if  it  gives  one  man  duration,  space,  anil  their 
infinity,  it  does  all  men.  In  matters  of  opinion,  reasoning, 
and  judgment,  men  dill'er,  on  account  of  the  complexity  of 
the  mental  processes  by  which  these  states  of  mind  are 
elaborated.  But  notions  of  suggestion,  coming  from  the 
fountain  of  the  mind,  or  being  the  result  of  a  simple  action 
of  a  simple  power  or  faculty  of  the  mind,  must  be  true,  or 
all  reasonings  and  knowledge  are  at  an  end;  for  the  prem- 
ises of  all  reasonings  are   obtained  in  this  way,  as  well  as 


5G  WILL    AND    MOHALS. 

inference  itself.  If  the  primary  action  of  the  mental  facul- 
ties is  to  be  questioned,  pray  what  is  tlie  criterion  of  truth? 
Aie  we  to  refer  to  an{,'els?  Now  let  us  try  this  idea  of 
causeless  volition  l)y  some  of  the  above  tests. 

40.  Is  it  a  primary  idea,  thrown  out  b}-  the  inherent  en- 
erpfy  of  all  minds  suffi(!iently  developed  ?  If  so  it  would  be 
the  same  in  all  nien.  So  far  from  this,  men  are,  and  always 
have  been,  nearly  equally  divided  on  the  question.  In  1848, 
American  missionaries,  in  Asia  Minor,  wrote  that  the  Ma- 
hometan inhabitants  believed  in  falalit}'  and  "  ach'd  on  it  an 
true;"  that  wheti  the  cholera  was  sweeping  off  appalling 
numbers,  they  would  not  go  to  the  country  from  the  over- 
crowded city,  or  make  any  exertion  to  avert  any  evil,  on 
the  ground  of  fatality.  I  suppose  that  all  the  followers  of 
Mahomet,  about  one  half  as  many  as  those  of  Christ,  be- 
lieve in  the  causation  of  volition,  "and  act  on  it  as  true," 
If  it  be  said  that  "  these  were  uncultivated  minds,"  I  an- 
swer, that  Edw-ards,  Emmons,  and  a  large  and  respectable 
religious  denomination  have  believed,  and  still  believe,  in 
it.  If  our  friends  would  have  us  believe  that  the  mind 
originally  suggests  that  volition  is  not  caused,  it  devolves 
on  them  to  show  how  so  man}'  came  b}'  an  opposite  idea,  or 
belief.  In  the  mean  time  we  will  undertake  to  account  for 
the  idea  of  freedom  otherwise  than  by  suggestion. 

41.  The  mass  of  mankind  have  not,  even  in  our  own 
country,  thought  of  the  subject  enough  to  have  a  distinct 
idea  of  the  question  at  issue.  The  uncertainty  as  to  how 
the  mind  will  be  determined — the  power  of  deliberation — 
and  the  freedom  from  restraint  or  constraint,  have  led  many 
to  suppose  thej'  were  free;  indeed,  this  is  the  very  idea  of 
freedom  with  many.  But  all  of  this  is  perfectly  consistent 
with  the  idea  of  causation  in  volition.  The  iron  jacket  sits 
as  easily  on  our  miml  as  the  vast  weight  of  the  atmosphere 
on  our  hf^nils.  Thus  we  apprehend  that  multitudes  adojjt 
the  sentiment  of  freedom  from  mere  mfidal  crndi'y.  Ma- 
hometans adopt  the  op|)osite  idea  from  the  same  cause;  the 
opinions  of  both  are  equally  worthless,  except  it  be  to  show 
tliat  original  suggpstion  is  silent  on  the  subject. 

42.  Tlnit  part  of  freedomists  which  cannot  plead  crudity, 
we  venture  to  presume,  have  some  favorite  doctrine  of  the- 
ology or  morals,  which  they  suppose  inconsistent  with 
caused  volition.  Their  cherished  cloctrine  is  not  doubted, 
so  tliLV.  unconsciously,  seek  for  arguments  against  caused 
volition. 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  57 

43.  A  friend  of  the  writer,  of  great  metaphysical  acumen^ 
after  reailing'  the  forgoing  essay,  acknowledged  that  causa- 
tion prevailed  in  all  volitions  e.xcept  those  constituting 
moral  acts,  or  actions  right  or  wrong.  His  argument  was 
about  this:  Men  are  under  moral  obligation  to  do  and  re- 
frain from  certain  acts;  this  obligation  is  often  violated;  if 
volition  is  caused,  they  could  md  have  done  otherwise  (if 
they  had  tried),  and  what  men  cannot  do  they  are  under  no 
obligation  to  do.  To  say  they  could  not  have  done  other- 
wise if  they  had  tried,  is  absurd.  Jilflort  and  volition  al- 
ways coincide,  excejjt  constrained  by  some  force  ab  extra. 
I  will  not  dissect  this  argunient  further  now,  but  state  it 
here  because  what  is  to  follow  will  apply  to  il  as  well  as  to 
the  foregoing  argument. 

44.  It  it  can  be  shown  that  the  hypothesis  of  freedom  if? 
inconsistent  with  known  and  acknowledged  facts  or  princi- 
ples, or  involves  absurdity,  it  must  be  given  up.  Chance 
and  contingence  are  words  used  in  two  senses.  First  when 
the  causes  of  phenomena  are  so  complicated  or  hidden 
that  they  cannot  be  traced.  Thus  we  say  it  is  a  chance  if 
it  rains;  when  dice  are  shaken  and  thrown,  it  is  a  chance 
how  they  will  fall;  when  a  coin  is  thrown  up  with  a  whirl- 
ing motion,  it  is  contingent  which  side  up  it  will  fall.  But 
no  one  supposes  that  the  law  of  causatitjn  fails  in  any  of 
these  cases.  Second,  these  words  are#ipplied  to  describe 
uncaused  phenomena;  volitions  on  the  hypothesis  of  free- 
dom are  the  only  examples  of  these. 

45.  Even  these  events  (if  freedomistsare  right)  areequally 
certain  as  any  event  whatever,  only  our  means  of  ascertain- 
ing that  certainty  do  not  exist.  But  God,  if  He  be  omnis- 
cient, and  ])erliaps  inferior  beings,  can  see  wljat,  or  how, 
these  absolutely  contingent  phenomena  will  be,  which 
proves  them  to  be  certain  in  aji  absolute  sense.  All  that  is 
meant  by  the  tirst  delinition  is  obscurity  of  causes;  by  the 
second,  absence  of  causes. 

4G.  Now  within  the  sphere  of  freedom,  that  is,  with  re- 
gard to  those  objects  of  which  ti)e  mind  is  supposed  to  be 
free  to  choose  either,  it  is  a  matter  of  absolute  contingence 
which  will  be  taknn;  fur  the  very  hypothesis  of  freedom  is 
uncaused  volition;  and  all  the  necessary  occasions  of  choice 
are  a  choosing  subject,  and  an  object  of  choice. 

47.  All  the  writers  on  mind  agree  that  all  the  actions  of 
the  intellect  and  sensibility  are  governed  by  causation; 
4 


58  W  11,1,    AN b    MOHALH. 

therefore  a  p^iven  stiite  of  mind  and  ^iven  external  objects 
will  i)ro(luce  always  the  same  excitation  of  intellect  and 
sensibility. 

48.  Now  if  mind  is  self-determined,  or  self-acting,  regard- 
less of  causation,  it  is  one  of  two  tilings — self-determination 
of  person,  or  self-deterniination  of  will.  If  it  l)e  self-deter- 
mination of  person,  as  the  person  includes  both  the  intellect 
and  sensibility,  and  as  their  excitation  are  the  only  immedi- 
ate motives  to  tlie  will,  if  it  is  determined  according  to  the 
paramount  excitation  of  them,  it  is  according  to  causation. 
But  if  the  person  wills  contrary  to  his  jjaramount  inclina- 
tion, it  is  absurd.  But  if  the  will  is  self-determined,  then 
the  will  leads  the  person  by  the  nose,  and  the  will  is  led 
by  this  little  inane  personage  called  chance,  who  struts  in 
Lis  "brief  hour  of  authority,"  and  pays  not  the  slightest 
regard  to  the  wishes,  desires,  or  even  the  moral  sense  of 
the  ])erson. 

49.  On  the  hypothesis  of  freedom,  within  the  sphere  of 
freedom,  there  can  be  no  means  oi  jncJguug  or  guessing  what 
V(ditions  will  be;  nor  from  past  volitions,  what  the  disposi- 
tion of  mind  ivas.  All  means  are  swept  away,  and  there 
can  be  no  such  thing  as  habitude  or  character;  each  voli- 
tion is  individual,  isolated,  uncaused,  not  alTected  by  ante- 
cedents. How  then  does  one  action  afiord  any  clue  to  what 
the  next  action  wil^be?  It  is  not  easy  to  see  how,  on  the 
hypothesis  of  freedom,  such  a  thing  as  habitude  or  char- 
acter can  exist.  By  the  hypothesis,  between  the  volitions 
and  the  mental  excitations,  either  of  the  sensibilit}'  or  in- 
tellect, which  alone  primarily  influence  the  will  as  motive, 
there  is  a  gulf  as  impassable  as  that  between  Dives  and 
Lazarus.  I  confess  I  cannot  see  how  one  act  can  influence 
,-a  succeeding  one,  to  be  morally  good  or  bad,  except  that 
the  lirst  act  and  the  mental  excitation  accompanying  it,  and 
.causing  it  (if  it  is  caused),  by  a  law  of  our  nature,  produce 
.a  habitude  of  the  thoughts  and  feelings  antecedent  to  the 
subsequent  act.  But  how  can  this  be,  since  by  the  hypoth- 
esis of  freedom  the  act  is  uncaused,  totally  isolated  from  all 
antecedent  motives,  and  absolutely  contingent?  How  then 
can  character  or  habitude  good  or  bad  exist?  Yet  they  do 
exist. 

50.  It  is  equally  difficult  to  see  what  is  gained  to  the 
cause  of  morals  by  cutting  off  all  connection  between  the 
volitions  and  the  moral  feelings;  if  the  moral  act  be  caused, 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  59 

it  is  nn  outward  expression  of  tlie  internal  man;  if  not,  it  is 
an  illegitimate  intruder  into  the  wtnld,  both  dumb  and 
blind,  and  can  neitl>er  tell  the  moral  feelings,  thoughts, 
intentions,  or  succeeding  acts.  To  be  subject  to  law,  and 
have  one's  moral  acts  the  sport  of  fancy,  would  seem  hard, 
but  to  be  controlled  by  chance  is  worse;  for  fancy  has  some 
regard  to  law,  chance  none. 

51.  If  they  be  caused,  the  pain  of  punishment  adds  an- 
other motive  to  those,  the  office  of  which  is  to  cause  the 
l^erson  to  do  right.  But  if  the}'  are  uncaused,  their  pilnish- 
ment  is  wanton  vengeance,  in  every  ])ossible  respect.  Men 
are  led  into  error  by  reasoning  that  it  is  unjust  to  punish  a 
man  for  doing  what  he  could  not  help  doing  if  he  tried. 
Here  are  two  errors;  first,  that  punishment  is  a  vengeance 
and  a  hardship  to  the  guilty;  it  is  for  llie'tr  good,  as  well  as 
for  the  good  of  others.  Second,  that  one  ever  really  tries 
contrary  to  causation  or  volition. 

52.  Should  it  be  said,  "  if  you  know  a  man's  main  object, 
you  may  foresee  the  particular  volition  he  will  put  forth  in 
its  execution,"  I  answer,  most  freedomists  allow  that  when 
a  man's  main  purpose  is  formed,  all  minor  volitions  iu  exe- 
cution thereof  are  caused;  as  when  I  set  out  to  walk  to  a 
town  five  miles  distant,  the  several  volitions  which  move 
my  legs  are  considered  necessary.  One's  "  main  object  "  is 
changed  but  a  few  times  in  one's  life;  and  it  matters  but 
little  whether  these  volitions  are  caused  or  uncaused,  if  they 
ai'e  the  only  uncaused  ones.  I  can  see  no  other  force  to 
the  above  quoted  reasoning,  than  to  narrow  the  sphere  of 
freedom,  but  when  you  come  to  that  sjdiere  (l)y  which  term 
I  include  all  those  volitions  which  the  mind  is  supposed  to 
be  free  to  uiake  either)  the  above  reasoning  must  apply.  It 
is  not  my  province  to  define  that  sphere,  since  I  believe  in 
none;  and  freedomists  themselves  differ  as  to  what  it  in- 
cludes, all  agreeing  that  some  volitions  are  caused.  I  am 
content  if  I  so  frame  my  argument  that  it  will  apply  to  all 
that  are  included,  be  they  more  or  less. 

53.  If  it  be  said  that  "  the  preceding  act,  or  the  mental 
excitation  accompanying  it,  exert  an  influence  on  a  succeed- 
ing one,  though  not  a  causative  one,"  I  answer,  it  does  not 
a])pear  how  antecedents  can,  "in  whole  or  in  part,  be  a 
ground  or  reason  why  a  volition  is,  rather  than  not,  or  why 
it  is  as  it  is,  rather  than  otherwise,"  and  not  cause  it.  It 
should  be  borne  iu  mind  that  we  have  no  measure  of  mo- 


GO  \VU,I-    AM)    MOKALS. 

live  118  .'111  exlcniiil  object,  and  it  nifitters  not  whetlier  it  iu- 
flnciK-e  llie  will  much  or  little;  if  it  affect  tlie  will  at  all  it 
must  be  a  causative  effectioii,  or  a  contingent  effection.  lu 
tlie  latter  case,  with  given  antecedents,  the  volition  is  con- 
tingent, to  which  all  the  forementioned  appurtenances  at- 
tach. 


PAPvT    II. 

REVIEW  OF  EDWARDS  ON  THE  WILL. 

CONSISTING    OF    A    CANDID    STATEMENT    OF    HIS    SEVERAL    POSITIONS 
AND    arguments;    AND    THEIR   CAREFUL    EXAMINATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

54.  Part  first  is  merely  an  attempt  to  define  all  the  terms 
of  uncertain  import,  used  in  the  following  discussion.  In 
Section  first  the  will  is  defined  to  be  "tJui/  by  ichich  the 
mind  chooses  any  thing:  the  faculty  of  the  will  is  that 
faculty,  or  power,  or  principle  of  the  mind,  by  which  it  is 
cai)able  of  choosing:"  this  is  variously  ilustrated,  and  some 
criticisms  made  on  some  observations  of  John  Locke  on 
the  subject. 

55.  Section  second  consists  of  an  iuquiiy  as  to  "what 
determines  the  will.''  He  says,  "it  is  thai  mofive  rvhich,  as 
it  filaiids  in  Ike  vifib  of  the  mind,  is  the  strongest,  that  dder- 
mini's  the  icill,"  I  suppose  he  means,  at  tlie  time  of  volition. 
He  then  goes  on  to  explain  what  he  means  by  motive; 
which  is  "the  whole  of  that  which  moves,  excites,  or  invites 
the  mind  to  volition,  whether  that  be  one  thing  singly,  or 
many  things  conjointly."  In  further  elucidating  the  matter 
he  says,  "a  motive  has  some  sort  and  degree  of  tendency, 
or  advantage  to  move  or  excite  the  will  previous  to  the 
effect,  or  to  the  act  of  will  excited.  This  previous  tenden- 
cy is  what  I  call  the  strength  of  motive."  Here  we  have 
the  two  distinct  measures  of  the  strength  of  motive,  more 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  61 

variant  than  avoirdnjiois  and  troy  weight,  and  wine 
measure  !  Tlie  first  example  is  another  example  of  prlilio 
pi'iiicipii,  or  begging  the  question.  If  the  will  is  moved,  as 
he  contends,  by  an  antecedent  cause,  and  its  action  necessi- 
tated, then  that  which  determines,  or  is  the  cause  of  tlie 
will's  action,  is  the  strongest  or  greatest.  But  if  the  will 
is  free,  and  acts  spontaneously  and  contingently,  then  the 
motive  which  is  before  the  mind  and  is  the  occa.^ion  of  its 
acts  may  not  be  the  strongest  or  greatest.  The  president's 
assertion,  that  tlie  former  is  true,  though  high  authority, 
will  hardly  be  taken  in  this  investigating  age,  in  lieu  of  all 
evidence  of  the  fact. 

5G.  The  second  proposition  is  clearly  erroneous,  as  it  will 
appear  hereafter.  But  the  whole  difficulty  consists  in  the 
absurd  attenipt  to  a))ply  a  measure  to  motive,  considered 
as  by  him,  as  something  external  lo  the  mind,  that  "moves, 
excites,  or  invites  the  mind  to  volition."  In  the  first  pro- 
position he  says,  "that  motive  is  the  strongest  which,  as  it 
stands  in  the  view  of  the  mind,  determines  the  will."  Sup- 
pose this  diclt(m  is  true,  what  does  it  avail  as  a  measure  of 
the  strength  of  motive,  when  there  is  no  probability,  and 
scarce  a  possibility,  of  its  ever  standing  in  the  same  view  of 
the  mind  a  second  time?  Mind  is  ever  active,  and  the 
slightest  variation  of  the  excitement  of  any  of  the  faculties, 
when  it  views  the  motive,  must  change  the  strength  of  the 
motive.  And  further  if  the  same  motive  should  ever  a 
second  time  "stand  in  the  same  view  of  the  mind,"  he 
has  ofifered  no  evidence  that  volition  would  be  the  same:  if 
the  doctrine  of  the  freedomist  is  true,  there  is  no  probability 
that  it  would.  His  second  measure  of  the  strength  of  mo- 
tive is,  its  ])revious  tendency  to  excite  or  move  the  will?  A 
bottle  of  rum  may  have  a  previous  tendency  to  excite  a  man 
whose  appetite  is  morbid  and  excited,  to  commit  theft;  but 
a  moment's  rcjh'i-liou  may  so  bring  before  his  mind  the 
Khame  and  disgrace  he  is  bringing  ou  his  famil}',  as  to 
counteract  tbe  "previous  tendency."  If  he  had  added  to 
his  previous  tenilenc}',  with  a  given  view,  state,  or  excite- 
ment of  mind,  it  would  have  been  correct;  but  of  what 
avail?  Motive,  properly  speaking,  can  only  be  measured  by 
estimating  both  the  mental  excitement,  and  all  external 
matter  influencing  it,  at  the  time  of  admeasurement. 

57.   Section  "id  contains  a  definition  of  ])hiloso))hical   or 
metaphysical  necessity;  which  is   "nothing   dilVerent   from 


G2  Wll.r,    AM)    MOKALS. 

tlieir  cortiiinty.  Not  certiiinty  of  Icnowlcd^'f!,  but  tlie  cer- 
iiiiiity  of  tilings  llicnisolvoH,  wliieli  i»  the  fouiidfitioii  of  tlie 
Cfiliiiiity  of  tlie  kiiowled^'C  of  tliem,  or  tliiit  wherein  lies  the 
pirouiid  of  tlie  infallibility  of  the  proposition  thiit  {itKrms 
them."  And  aj^ain,  "philosophical  necessity  is  really  lioth- 
iu<^  else  than  the  full  and  fixed  conue(;tion  between  the 
tliinp^s  signified  by  the  subject  and  in'edicute  of  a  proposi- 
tion." 

58.  In  Section  4th,  the  distinction  between  natural  and 
moral  necessity  is  said  to  be  "not  so  much  in  the  connec- 
tion as  the  terms  connected,"  In  natural  necessity  the 
terms  are  material,  in  moral,  the  terms  are  moral  or  rather 
vir/(ip]i)/xical.  These  definitions  are  variously  ex])lained  and 
illustrated,  and  the  difference  between  their  philosophical 
and  ))opular  use  pointed  out.  "Would  it  not  conilui-e  to 
clearness  to  say  material  and  mental  necessity,  as  this  is 
the  "idea"? 

59.  Section  5th  contains  a  definition  of  liberty  and  moral 
agency.  The  popular  sense  of  libertj^  is,  the  freedom  from 
7'(^-straint  or  ct)i(-stiaint  from  doing  or  acting  as  we  please 
or  will.  But  tlie  lil)erty  which  "Arminians  advocate  and 
Ciilvinists  deny  is  a  self-determining  power  of  the  will  by 
which  it  determines  its  own  volitions;  without  being  affected 
b}'  any  cause  out  of  itself,  or  prior  to  its  own  acts  speci- 
fied. Also  indifference  must  belong  to  it,  or  that  the  mind 
previous  to  the  act  of  volition  be  in  eqn'dihrio.  Absolute 
contingence  also  belongs  to  it"  (audi  may  add  that  this 
is  all  the  absolute  contingence  in  the  universe,  and  if  the 
will  is  not  thus  free,  there  is  no  absolute  contingence). 
Leiiving  the  subject  of  the  will,  and  entering  the  field  of 
ethics,  some  good  remarks  as  to  moral  agents,  and  moral 
character,  close  the  section. 

GO.  Having  closed  the  definitions  in  part  first,  in  )iart 
second  he  argues  the  case.  In  Section  1st,  he  examines 
what  he  calls  the  "Arminian  nt)tion  of  liberty  of  will,  con- 
sisting of  the  will's  self-determining  power."  He  employs 
the  ad  abmirdnm  argument,  by  saying  that  if  the  will,  or,  as 
he  prefers  it,  the  agent  or  person  willing,  determines  its  or 
his  own  acts,  it  must  be  by  a  previous  act  of  will,  and  that 
previous  act  b^'  another  preceding  act,  and  so  on  ad  injini- 
(am,  or  to  the  first  act  in  the  series,  which  must  be,  he 
says,  caused  by  something  else. 

Gl.  I  confess  I  am  not  able  to  see  the  force  of  this  argu- 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  G3 

ment.  I  suppose  tlie  "Aiminian  uotion"  to  be,  tbat  Ihe 
will,  or  i)eison,  determines  its  own  acts,  by  its  own  inlier- 
ent  enerjjiy  or  action,  aside  from  external  or  even  internal 
influence  in  tlie  natme  of  motive,  u-Jicii  il  nets  and  in  (he 
ad  of  acting.  Is  there  anything  inconsistent  or  absurd  in 
the  idea?  It  is  a  question  of  fact,  and  sliould  be  treated 
as  such  b}'  examinin"-  the  evidence  in  the  case.  To  say  that 
it  is,  or  must  be  determined  b}^  a  preceding  act  is  simply  to 
beg  the  question;  and  further  when  he  comes  to  the  first 
act  in  the  series,  it  is  mere  assum|)tion  to  say  it  is  not  a 
free  act.  He  seems  to  have  it  fixed  in  his  mind  that  voli- 
tion must  have  a  cause.  The  hypothesis  of  freedom  is  that 
it^s  not  (so  to  speak)  enticed  b}'  soifiething  before  it,  to 
cause  it,  in  the  shape  of  motive;  nor  driven  by  something 
(a  previous  act),  with  whip  in  hand  behind  it;  the  whole 
begins  and  euds  in  assumptions  and  proves  nothing. 

62.  Section  2d  contains  a  consideration  of  some  evasions 
of  the  argument  of  Section  1st.  "When  the  foregoing  com- 
ment on  Section  1st  was  written,  I  had  not  read  Section  2d, 
nor  had  I  any  ideii  of  what  it  contained.  But  on  its  careful 
jierusal  I  do  not  see  that  anything  can  be  said  to  throw 
light  on  the  subject,  nor  do  I  see  cause  to  change  what  has 
been  written  on  Section  1st. 

63.  Section  ;5d  purjiorts  to  be  an  inquiry  '•  whether  any 
event  whatever,  and  volition  in  particular,  can  come  to 
pass  without  a  cause."'  He  defines  cause  "to  signify  any 
antecedent,  either  natural  or  moral,  i)ositive  or  negative, 
on  whioli  an}'  event,  either  a  thing  or  the  manner  and  cir- 
cumstances of  a  thing,  so  depend  that  it  is  the  ground  and 
reason,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  why  it  is  rather  than  not, 
or  why  it  is  as  it  is  rather  than  otherwise."  He  then  says, 
"Having  thus  explained  what  I  mean  by  cause,  I  assert 
that  nothing  ever  comes  to  i)ass  without  a  cause.  And  this 
dictate  of  common  sense  respects  substances  and  modes  or 
things  and  the  manner  and  circumstance  of  things."  He 
then  goes  on  to  being  and  mode  of  b^ing  of  bndics  as  uni- 
versally referred  to  cause.  I  will  (juote  one  passage,  not 
that  it  contains  a  pertinent  argument,  but  on  account  of  its 
intrinsic  worth : 

61.  "  If  once  it  should  be  allowed  that  things  m:iy  come 
to  pass  without  a  cause,  we  should  not  only  have  no  pro«)f  of 
the  being  of  a  God,  but  we  shoidd  be  without  evidence  of 
the  existence  of  anything  whatever  but  our  own  immediate 


C4  WIIJ,    AND    MOKALS. 

ideas  and  fonsoiousne.s.s;  for  we  liave  no  way  of  proviiifr 
nnytliiii^'  cl><f-  l>"t  I'V  ar^uinf(  from  efl'ect  to  cause;  from  the 
ideas  imiiiediately  in  vic^w  we  ar<,'ue  otlier  tiling's  not,  imme- 
diately in  view;  from  sensations  now  in  the  mind  we  arf,'ue 
things  witluml  as  tlie  causes  of  these  sensations;  we  ar^^^ue 
the  past  existence  of  ourselves  or  anything  else  hj  memory 
only  as  we  argue  that  the  ideas  which  are  now  in  our  minds 
are  the  consequences  of  past  ideas  and  sensations;  we  im- 
luediatel}'  jierceive  nothing  else  but  the  ideas  that  are  this 
moment  extant  in  our  minds;  we  perceive  or  know  other 
tilings  onlj'  by  means  of  these,  as  necessarily  connected 
■with  others  and  dependent  on  them;  but  if  things  may  be 
Avithout  causes,  all  this  necessary  connection  and  depend- 
ence is  dissolved,  and  so  all  means  of  our  knowledge  is 
gone."  This  is  a  magnificent  and  beautiful  ])assage,  but 
does  not  reach  the  point.  It  may  be  unfortunate  to  "  have 
no  proof  of  the  being  of  a  God,"  but  still  it  is  difficult  to 
see  liow  this  can  be  wrought  into  an  argument  that  mind 
does  not  so  act.  It  seems  unnecessary  to  examine  the  as- 
sumptions of  this  section  further. 

65.  Section  4th  inquires  whether  volition  can  arise  with- 
out a  cause,  through  the  activity  of  the  nature  of  the  soul. 
The  mere  activity  of  the  soul  neither  proves  nor  disproves 
that  the  action  of  that  activity  is  or  is  not  in  accordance 
•with  the  law  of  causation.  Animals  and  plants  are  to  some 
extent  active  in  their  nature;  but  I  suppose  that  all  ac- 
knowledge that  their  movements  are  all  caused.  The  issue 
is,  are  all  the  particles  (so  to  speak)  or  constituent  elements 
of  the  substance  or  being  of  the  soul  in  the  process  of  voli- 
tion in  conformity  to  the  law  of  causation?  The  question 
is  one  of  fact,  and  all  this  declamation  about  the  law  of 
cause  and  efiect  in  matter,  or  even  in  the  emotive  or  intel- 
lectual part  of  our  nature,  is  not  evidence  pertinent  to  the 
issue. 

GG.  It  is  not  easy  to  see  the  force  of  the  ad  ahtiurdum  ar- 
gument in  the  fifth  jiaragraph  which  he  attempts  to  father 
on  his  opponents.  It  is  of  a  similar  nature  to  his  argument 
in  reference  to  a  self-determining  power  of  the  will.  In  the 
present  case  the  hypothesis  is  that  the  soul  chooses  or  acts 
freelv,  or  in  violation  of  the  law  of  causation,  as  it  exists 
from  the  presence  of  motive,  through  the  inherent  activity 
of  the  soul,  luJien  it  chooses,  or  in  the  act  of  volition.  Now, 
to  undertake  to  prove  this  untrue  by  saying  that  if  the  will 


WILL    AND    MOIULS.  65 

act  freely  it  must  be  l\v  a  previous  act  of  choice,  is  notbing- 
more  than  an  assumption.  I  mean  no  tlisres]>e(;t,  or  tbat 
the  author  meant  to  befog  hin)self  or  bis  readers,  but  it 
seems  that  such  is  the  case.  He  says,  "  be  cannot  conceive 
what  is  meant  b}-  the  soul's  clioosing  b}'  its  own  activity, 
exce])t  that  God  has  given  power  to  the  soul,  sometimes, 
at  least,  to  excite  volitions  at  pleasure  or  according  as  it 
chooses;  and  this  certainly  supposes  in  all  cases  a  choice 
precediiig  all  volitions  which  are  thus  caused."  I  feai-  I 
shall  weary  the  reader  by  repetitions;  but  this  does  seem  to 
be  an  evasion  of  the  true  issue  as  stated  above. 

G7.  In  Section  5th,  his  remarks  on  Dr.  Whitbey's  idea  of 
liberty  as  a  power  of  acting  from  ourselves,  or  doing  what 
we  will,  are  very  just;  but  as  that  idea  is  not  the  (rue  idea, 
but   little  is  gained  or  lost  to  either  cause  by  its  refutation. 

08.  Section  Gth  contains  a  consideration  of  the  idea  of 
choosing  things  which  are  indift'erent.  The  ])osition  of  Dr. 
Whitbey  is  fully  met  and  refuted.  The  position  taken  by 
Dr  Wliitbey  is  this:  "When  two  things  are  presented  to  the 
mind  whicli  in  the  view  of  the  mind  have  equal  claims  to 
choice,  if  one  be  chosen  it  proves  liberty  of  will.  It  is  a 
sufficrient  answer  to  this,  that,  although  the  motive  in  each 
object  is  equal,  yet  in  the  moment  of,  and  in  the  act  of 
choice,  the  motive  to  choose  one  is  superadded  to  the  mo- 
tive in  the  object.  It  is  scarcel}'  necessary  to  observe  here 
that  this  overthrowing  of  these  false  issues  does  not  affect 
the  true  issue. 

(!8.  Section  7th  is  a  further  consideration  of  the  liberty 
of  will  consisting  in  indilTerence.  I  cannot  but  protest 
here  that  I  am  tired  of  commenting  on  arguments  which, 
on  both  sides,  are  fcjundcd  on  assum[)tions  instead  of  facts. 
Mucdi  is  said  and  some  line-spun  arguments  deduced,  but 
no  headway  n)ade. 

Gl).  I  protest  further,  that  in  writing  this  review  I  have 
no  ambition  to  vanquish  the  writer  reviewed.  It  is  no  great 
honor  to  cut  off  a  dead  lion's  head,  should  the  undertaking 
))rove  successful.  It  would  be  much  n)ore  congenial  to  my 
feelings,  avoiding  controver.sy,  to  rest  the  cause  with  pre- 
senting my  own  views;  but  I  judged  that  the  reputation  of 
President  Edwards'  work  has  beeii,  and  still  is,  such  as  to 
demand  a  review  from  any  one  who  attempts  a  complete 
ex])osition  of  the  subject.  As  I  advocate  substantially  the 
same  conclusions  as  President  Edwards,  it  mav  seem   un- 


66  WII.I.    AM'    M(JKAI,H. 

iKM-('ssiiry  to  write,  and  Jin  jiiiotnaly  to  review  the  writer.  A 
])resitl()iit  of  one  of  our  colle^'en  reniiirked  to  iiie  that  be 
•'  llion^'lit  Edwards  would  no  lon«,fer  satisfy  tlie  deiuands  of 
a  tliinkin*;  ii{?e."  Altl)ou*,di  I  tliiiik  liis  conclusions  true, 
jet  I  think  he  has  loosely  and  bun^lirigly  proved  them,  if 
at  all;  for  these  and  other  reasons  I  write  a  review. 

70.  So,  with  again  bespeaking  the  reader's  patience,  I 
will  again  to  my  task.  The  idea  he  is  combating,  as  far  as 
I  can  translate  it,  is  this:  that  when  the  iniud  in  in  ffjui- 
lihrio,  or  ])erfectly  indilTerent  which  of  two  objects  to  choose, 
and  l)y  the  exertion  of  the  inherent  })owers  of  tlie  will,  aside 
fiom  all  influence  on  it  in  the  nature  of  motive,  one  is 
chosen,  this  is  a  free,  uncaused  act.  His  (that  is,  Edwards') 
argument  is,  that  to  constitute  it  a  free  act  the  mind  must 
be  in  eqinhhrio,  not  oidy  before,  but  in  the  act  of  choice, 
which  he  correctly  says  is  absurd! 

71.  Section  8th  is  a  consideriition  of  liberty  of  will,  as 
op]iosed  to  all  necessitj'.  All  that  need  be  said  on  this 
point  is  that  the  whole  point  in  controversy  is  assumed  by 
the  argument  that  all  things  in  general,  and  volition  in  par- 
ticular, are  caused. 

72.  Sections  9th  and  lOtli  are  considerations  of  God's 
prescience.  The  argument,  Avhich  is  elaborated  at  great 
length,  seems  in  substance  to  be  this:  God  foreknows  all 
the  future  phenomena  of  the  universe;  this  foreknowledge 
renders  or  proves  them  certain  and  necessary.  No  intellect 
can  foreknow  except  by  means  of  the  chain  of  causes  which 
precede  the  event.  Even  if  they  were  not  immediately  pre- 
ceded 1)3'  causes,  they  are  so  necessarily  connected  with 
God's  prescience  as  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  scheme  of 
liberty,  which  is  to  be  without  all  necessity. 

73.  There  are  several  errors  in  this  argument  which  ren- 
der it  WiU'thless.  The  firist  error  we  will  notice  is  that  no 
intelle(;t  can  foresee  future  events  except  by  means  of  the 
antecedent  causes.  True,  man  cannot;  but  it  is  a  strange 
proceeding  to  measure  God's  mind  by  mati's.  This  fore- 
knowledge proves  them  certain  and  necessary  (in  the  abso- 
lute sense  of  the  term).  And  further;  even  if  there  is  no 
being  to  foreknow  future  events,  still  every  ]ihenomeiia 
that  ever  will  take  place  in  the  future  progress  of  time  will 
take  place  in  a  cerlnin  time  and  manner,  and  any  being 
could  foresee  it  who  had  (lir  leqaisile  sof/dcilij  or  faculty; 
and  this  would  be  true  even  if    the   universe  were   jumbled 


WILL    AND    MURALS.  G7 

to  chaos,  and  even  the  law  of  causation  annihilated.  I 
shall  not  prove  this  ])roposition,  for  it  is  self-evident.  Ou 
close  inspection  it  will  be  found  to  be  but  a  mere  truism; 
the  whole  is  contained  in  tlie  h^'potbeticul  part  that  certain 
events  "  will  take  ])lace  in  the  future;"  for  if  tbey  w'ill  take 
phice  the}^  will  take  place  in  a  certain  njanner,  and  pre- 
science can  foresee  tliem.  But  all  tins  does  not  touch  the 
issue  of  lil)ert3'  and  necessity.  That  issue  is,  have  volitions 
immediate  antece^lcnt  causes?  Prescience  is  perfectly  con- 
sistent with  the  affirmative  or  negative  of  this  question. 

PART   II. 

74.  Section  1st  is  a  consideration  of  the  idea  that  moral 
character  can  attach  to  no  action  which  is  not  free.  He 
argues  that  the  virtuousness  or  viciousness  consists,  not  in 
the  caiii^c.,  but  in  the  nalarc.  of  the  act.  He  says,  "  the 
thinj^'  which  makes  sin  hateful  is  that  by  which  it  deserves 
puiiisliMient,  which  is  but  the  expression  of  hatred;"  and 
"  that  wliich  renders  virtue  lovely  is  the  same  with  that,  on 
account  of  which  it  is  tit  to  receive  praise  and  reward,  which 
are  but  the  expression  of  esteeuj  and  love."  I  will  but 
simply  remark  that  I  do  not  think  punishment  an  expres- 
sion of  hatred,  but  a  means  of  exciting  in  the  mind  of  the 
delinquent  a  motive  to  do  right,  and  thereby  using  the 
only  means  of  remedying  his  deficient  moral  state.  "While 
milder  means  will  effect  the  end,  punishment  proper,  or 
such  as  is  painful  to  the  person  punished,  should  not  be  I'e- 
sorted  to..  "Expressing  hatred"  as  such,  does  no  good 
either  to  the  community  or  individual,  and  if  moral  acts  are 
necessitated  by  a  long  ciiaiu  of  causes  extending  fur  back 
of  the  person,  it  is  hard  to  sjiy  he  deserves  such  ))unish- 
inent  as  is  painful  to  him,  aside  from  the  necessary  protec- 
tion of  society  and  his  own  reformation.  I  suppose  pun- 
ishment is  mainly  for  the  gootl  of  the  person  punished.  He 
has  defective  moral  faculties.  The  process  of  enlargement 
is  painful,  but  like  a  UKin  with  a  hare-lip,  this  process  of 
amendment  is  for  his  good.  I  must  close  with  these  naked 
statements;  it  is  not  the  place  for  a  treatise  on  ethics. 


APPENDIX 


CHAPTER  I. 


AN  INQUIRY  INI'O  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  MORAL  FACULTIES. 

1.  A  knowledge  of  the  nature,  autliority,  and  lep[itiniate 
action  of  the  moral  faculties  must  be  of  the  first  importance 
to  an  organized  society.  These  faculties,  more  than  any 
other,  fit  man  for  the  social  state.  Fully  impressed  with 
the  responsibility  of  the  task,  it  is  undertaken  with  trem- 
bling solicitude.  In  addition  to  the  intrinsic  difficulty  of  the 
subject,  it  is  so  metaphysical  in  its  nature,  and  has  occu- 
pied so  little  of  the  aftentUm  of  mankind,  that  with  all  pos- 
sil)le  painstaking,  an  author  is  liable  to  be  vd  understood, 
and  to  be  ?»/.s'-understood.  And  more  especially  is  this  the 
case  where  there  is  a  studied  brevit}'  that  condenses  pages 
to  a  sentence.  Should  the  developments  of  time  show  that 
some  grains  of  error  have  been  intermingled  with  the  fol- 
lowing ideas,  the  author  has  two  sources  of  consolation; 
first,  that  his  intentions  were  honest;  second,  that  no 
previous  writer  on  the  subject  can  "cast  the  first  st(.)ne." 
All  attempts  to  develop  and  elucidate  a  satisfactory  system 
of  morals  will  prove  abortive,  if  not  based  on  fundamental 
notions  of  the  nature  and  destiny  of  man,  and  iheohjec-fs  of 
his  creation.  The  following  system  has  two  foundations, 
one  of  which  is  acknowled^'ed  to  be  hypothetical;  the  other 
is  claimed  to  be  made  of  the  facts  of  observation.  We  now 
present  the  first 

PLATFORM  OR  PREMISE  OF  A  MORAL  SYSTEM. 

2.  This  consists  of  notions  which  most  monotheists,  and 
all  Christians,  have  always  embodied  amot)g  their  funda- 
mental notions  of  theology.  For  this  and  other  reasons, 
no  attempt  will  be  made  to  establish  the  premise,  but  only 


WU.L    AND    MOKALS.  69 

to  show  that  the  conclusions  are  legitimately  and  irresist- 
ibly deduced  from  the  premise.  The  ])reiuise  is  simply 
that  Deity  is,  and  has  been,  since  a  ])eriod  long  antei'ior 
to  the  creation  of  aught  besides,  infinitely  benevolent. 
That  benevolence  is  one  of  his  ])rinlominaut  characteristics. 
The  only  ultimate  object  of  the  action  of  a  benevolent 
af>ent  must  be  hajjpiness.  Tbis  may  be  called  pleasure, 
enjoyment,  satisfaction,  well-being,  etc.;  but  the  ?>/('«  (with 
which  we  have  to  deal)  remains  the  same.  This  proposition 
appears  so  self-evident  as  to  render  any  argumentation,  by 
way  of  i)roof,  very  difficult.  The  only  iilliina/e  good  is 
happiness;  all  other  good  is  relative,  and  it  is  only  valuable 
as  it  conduces  to  this  end.  Of  what  possible  use,  benefit, 
or  good  are  fine  houses,  statues  and  paintings,  sunny  skies 
and  fertile  fields,  if  there  are  no  sentiert  beings  to  enjoy 
them  ?  Of  what  advantage  are  a  tine  physical  frame  and 
symmetrical  limbs  if  there  be  no  conscious  spirit  to  con- 
trol and  enjoy  them?  Of  what  benefit  is  delightful  music 
if  there  be  no  ear  to  enjoy  it  ?  All  other  good  things  are 
links  in  a  chain,  of  whicli  iiappinessis  the  terminus.  Ha])- 
piness  is  a  good  in  itself;  it  is  only  when  it  causes  (as  it 
sometimes  does)  greater  unhappiiiess,  tliat  it  becomes  an 
evil;  and  even  then  the  happiness  is  equally  a  good,  only 
the  evil  which  it  causes  overbalances  the  good,  and  ren- 
ders it  worthy  of  avoidance.  No  chiim  is  here  made  to 
originality;  theologians  and  metaphysicians  of  reputation 
have  m;iintained  the  same  ideas. 

3.  The  idea  above  enunciated,  though  not  the  direct  ob- 
ject of  the  author,  is  distinctly'  avowed  in  the  following 
quotation  from  Trumbull's  Principles  of  Moral  Philosophy; 
taken  from  a  note  to  President  Edwards'  work  on  the  will. 
"  Whence  then  comes  evil?  is  the  question  that  hath  in  all 
ages  been  reckoned  the  Gordimi  knot  in  philosophy.  And, 
inileed,  if  we  own  the  existence  of  evil  in  the  world  in  an 
ab.soUde  sense,  we  diametrically  contradict  what  hath  been 
just  now  i)roved  of  Oud.  For  if  there  be  any  eril  in  the 
system,  that  is  not  good  in  respect  to  the  ivliole,  then  is  the 
whole,  not  good,  but  evil;  or  at  best,  very  imperfect.  And 
an  author  must  be  as  his  wor/iiuaiiship  is;  as  is  the  effect, 
such  is  the  cause.  But  the  solution  of  this  ditKculty  is  at 
hand:  That  there  is  no  evil  in  the  universe.  What!  are 
there  no  pains,  no  imperfections  ?  Is  there  no  imperfec- 
tion ?    Is  there  no  misery,  no  vice  in  the  world  ?  Or,  are  not 


70  WIIJ,    ANU    MORALS. 

these  evils?  Evils,  indcHMl  iliey  jire;  tliat  is,  tliose  of  one 
sort  are  Imitful,  find  those  of  the  other  sort  eqiiiilly  hurt- 
ful and  aboniinable;  bnt  tliey  are  not  evil  or  niischievous 
with  respect,  to  the  xrliole.  But  He  is  at  the  same  time  said 
to  ereat  evil,  darkness,  contusion;  and  yet  to  do  no  evil, 
but  to  be  tlie  author  of  man,  butoiveth  to  all  men  liberally, 
and  u))braideth  not.  And  by  the])ro])het  Isaiah,  He  is  ia- 
troduood,  saying  of  Himself,  I  form  light,  and  create  dark- 
ness; I  make  ])eaoe,  aJid  create  evil;  I,  the  Lord,  do  all 
these  things.  What  is  the  moaning,  the  plain  language  of 
all  tiiis?  but  I,  th«  Lord,  delighfeth  in  goodness,  and  (as 
the  scripture  speaks)  evil  is  his  strange  work?  He  intemls 
and  pursues  the  universal  gi)od  of  his  creation,  and  the 
evil  which  hajipens  is  not  permitted  for  its  own  sake, 
or  through  any  pleasure  in  evil,  but  because  it  is  requisite 
to  the  greater  good  pursued." 

4.  President  Edwurds,  in  his  essay  on  the  will,  advances  a 
similar  idea  on  the  following  quotation:  "  There  is  no  in- 
consistency in  supposing  that  God  may  hate  a  thing  as  it  is 
in  itself,  and  considered  simpl}'  as  evil,  and  yet  that  it  may 
be  his  will  it  should  come  to  pass,  considering  all  con- 
sequences. I  believe,  there  is  no  person  of  good  under- 
standing, who  will  venture  to  say,  he  is  certain  that  it  is 
impossible  it  should  be  best,  taking  in  the  whole  compass 
and  extent  of  existence,  and  all  consequences  in  the  end- 
less series  of  events,  that  there  should  be  such  a  thing  as 
moral  evil  in  the  world,  And  if  so,  it  will  certainly  follow, 
that  an  intinitely  wise  being,  who  always  chooses  what  is 
best,  must  choose  that  there  should  be  such  a  thing.  And 
if  so,  then  sucli  a  choice  is  not  an  evil,  but  a  wise  and 
holy  choice;  and  if  so,  then  that  providence  which  is  agree- 
able to  such  a  choice,  is  a  wise  and  holy  providence.  God 
does  not  will  sin  as  sin,  or  for  the  sake  of  anything  evil; 
though  it  be  his  pleasure  so  to  order  things,  that,  He  per- 
mitting, sin  will  come  to  pass;  for  the  sake  of  the  great  good 
that  by  his  disposal  shall  be  the  consequence.  His  willing 
to  order  things  so  that  evil  shall  come  to  pass,  for  the  sake  of 
the  contrary  good,  is  no  argument  that  He  does  not  hate 
evil,  as  evil;  and  if  so,  then  it  is  no  reason  why  He  may 
not  reasonably  forbid  evil,  as  evil,  and  punish  it  as  such." 
(Page  371.) 

5.  Professor  Finney  says  in  his  Systematic  Theology, 
the  reason  of  moral  oblij^ation  "  is  then  the  intrinsic  and 


WILL    AND    MUUALS. 


71 


iofiiiite  value  of  the  highest  good  of  God  and  of  the  uni- 
verse, that  constitutes  the  true  foundation  of  moral  obliga- 
tion. The  highest  well  being  of  God,  and  of  the  universe 
of  sentient  creatures,  is  the  eml  on  which  preference,  choice, 
intention,  ought  to  terminate."  "  The  late  or  the  laiotjivcr 
aims  to  promote  the  higest  good  or  blessedness  of  the  uni- 
verse. Tliis  must  be  the  end  of  moral  law  and  moral  gov- 
ernment.        ^ 

G.  The  idea  which  we  wish  to  enunciate  and  elucidate 
is  clearl}'  contained  in  each  of  the  above  quotations,  though 
mingled  with  other  ideas  with  which  at  present  we  have 
nothing  to  do.  We  wish  to  begin  with  ultimates;  and  we 
wish  to  show  that,  with  God's  benevolent  character  as  a 
premise,  happiness  of  the  Creator  and  the  created  H/(^s•/  have 
been  the  ohjc- 1  of  creation.  The  particulars  of  tlie  moral 
faculties  and  of  the  moral  obligation  of  their  action  we  re- 
serve for  subsequent  investigation,  leased,  not  on  hy|)(jthe- 
ses  of  the  character  of  the  Creator,  but  an  observation  of 
their  nature.  It  is  contrary  to  reason  that  a  benevolent 
Creator  should  enjoy  as  much  happiness  from  the  njisery  of 
bis  creatures  as  their  hapi)iness.  From  the  above  premise 
we  are  prepared  to  enunciate  the  following  conclusion: 
that  Ihc  ita/tire  of  the  moral  faculties,  and  their  drentjlh  pro- 
proporlionate  to  the  other  faculties,  are  such,  con  side  ring  the 
imperfect  state  and  dt^velojnnent  <f  man,  as  best  lo  promote  the 
highest  happiness  of  God's  creatures.  If  the  wisdom  of  Deity 
could,  previous  to  creation,  have  discovered  any  other  qual- 
ity  or  degree  of  moral  faculty  that,  if  inserted  into  man  as 
he  is,  and  as  he  is  situated,  would  have  resulted  in  more 
ha))piness,  what  reason  could  he  have  had  for  not  doing  it? 

7.  Bishop  Butler  in  his  "  Analogy"  maintains  the  oppo- 
site theory — that  we  can  have  no  idea  of  the  object  of  God 
in  creation.  He  says,  in  substance  (I  am  obliged  to  quote 
from  memoiy,  not  having  access  to  his  work),  tliat  man  can 
have  no  conception  (jf  the  object  or  end  of  creation.  This 
is  clearly  announced  and  illustrated  by  a  strong  compaii- 
sou.  It  is  readily  admitted  that  if  v/e  know  not  what  liis 
predominant  attributes  or  qualities  are,  or  if  He  have  attri- 
butes or  qualities  of  which  we  have  no  con(;e|)tion,  we  can 
know  nothing  of  his  objects.  But  tlieologians  assume  to 
know  these;  and  if  so,  logic  compels  certain  conclusions. 

8.  A  few  more  conclusions  remain  to  be  detluced  from 
the  above  premise.     And  it  may  be  well  here  to  announce 


72  WILL    AND    MOIIAL8. 

tliiiL  we  hIkiII  iiiuleitiikfi  U)  pr(jvo  tliut  tljero  are  two  kinds 
of  iiionility — absolute  mornlity  or  rifj^lit,  and  relative  mor- 
ality or  ri^dit.  Tliese  are  diverse  from  and  often  directly 
op|)OHite  each  other.  It  appears  a  conclusion  from  the 
above  premise  that  absolute  morality  or  ii,i,dit  consists  in 
that  conduct  of  each  individual  which,  in  his  relation  to  all 
other  boinjj^s,  would  result  in  the  hif^hest  happiness.  Some 
mi^dit  add,  without  doiu<^  wron<f  to  any;  but  fflis  is  thought 
unnecessary;  for  it  is  not  to  be  admitted  that  an  all-wise 
Deity  lias  so  contrived  the  mechanisnL  of  his  creation  that 
ultimate  fj^ood  can  be  done  by  wrong  to  any.  Another  in- 
ference is  that  a  perfect  intellect,  able  to  apprehend  the 
fact  and  the  nature  of  his  relations  to  all  other  beings, 
would  see  by  the  light  of  intellect  the  proper  course  for  him 
to  pursue  without  the  aid  of  a  moral  faculty.  Another  in- 
ference is  that  a  perfect  moral  faculty,  legitimately-  culti- 
vated and  exercised,  would  instinctively  indicate  a  course 
of  conduct  identical  with  the  above,  that  is,  calculated  to 
promote  the  highest  possible  happiness  without  any  aid 
from  intellect,  except  such  as  is  necessary  for  its  action. 
The  imperfection  of  the  intellect  raises  the  necessity  of  a 
moral  facult}',  and  the  imperfection  of  both  raises  the  ne- 
cessity of  the  above  distinction  betw'een  absolute  right  and 
relative  right.  "When  these  shall  coalesce,  man  will  have 
attained  his  perfect  development.  When  this  will  be,  or 
"whether  ever,  the  writer  saith  not.  We  now  come  to  con- 
sider, from  observation  of  the  moral  faculties,  the  second 
platform. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SECOND    PLATFORM    OR   PREMISE    OF    A    MORAL    SYSTEM. 

9.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  we  take  as  a  starting 
point  the  principle  that  happiness,  pleasure,  or  that  which 
is  agreeable,  ))ositively,  and  pain  or  unhappiness,  nega- 
tively, are  the  oidy  actual  or  possible  motives  to  huiuan  ac- 
tion, and  the  only  ultimate  ends  of  human  existence  or  ef- 
fort; and  other  things  are  good  only  as  they  cause,  directly 
or  indirectly,  present  or  remote  happiness.  It  seems  to  be 
self-evident,  and  for  that  reason  to  forbid  proof  by  any  pro- 


WILL   AND    MORALS.  73 

cess  of  ratiocination;  for  reason  as  long  as  we  will,  oiir 
reasoning-  must  commence  with  premises  or  first  principles 
wliich  are  assnmed  as  starting  points.  Every  thought  and 
emotion  of  tlie  mind  must  be  either  agreeable,  disagreeable, 
or  neutral.  If  agreeal)le  it  invites  volition,  if  disagreeable 
it  repels  it,  and  if  neutral  it  can  scarcely  exert  an  influence. 
Milton's  demon  may  have  truly  said,  "  Evil,  be  thou  my 
good,"  but  his  constitution  was  such  that  he  took  pleasure 
in  that  which,  by  the  government  under  which  he  lived, 
caused  greater  pain;  ami  he  had  not  sufficient  foresight, 
moral  principle,  and  self-control   to  avoid  the  greater  evil. 

HAPPINESS,    WHAT? 

10.  Happiness  is  an  agreeable  state  of  mind  consequent 
on  an  action  of  some  power  of  the  mind.  Sirictly  speak- 
ing, theie  is  no  such  thing  as  "bodily  pain."  The  pain  is 
in  the  mind,  and  is  caused  Uy  a  disordered  state  of  the  b<  dy. 
The  healtliy  or  normal  action  of  any  faculty  occasions  the 
highest  hapi linens  of  which  it  is  capable  witliout  excessive 
action,  which  either  impairs  its  i)ower  of  contributing  luip- 
piness  or  causes  a  painful  action  of  other  faculties.  Tlie 
greatest  good  of  mankind  is  the  highest  happiness  of  which 
the  race  is  cajjable.  Good  men  are  ready  to  admit  that  the 
constitution  and  relation  of  our  nature  are  such  that  each 
one  contributes  most  to  the  general  good  by  that  course 
which  is  best  calculated  to  secure  his  own  hap[)iness. 

THE    HIGHES'l'    PEKSONAl' HAPPINESS. 

11.  /s  caused  h)/  /lie  vuisl.  perfect  hj/iii metrical  developuieiil 
and  exercise  of  all  tlie  poivi-r-i  (f  our  heiiKj.  This  proposition 
will  hardly  encounter  opposition,  for  it  is  liltle  more  than 
a  truism.  It  is  n(jt  said  what  is  a  symmetrical  development 
of  each  faculty;  it  is  not  said  how  much  time  and  strength 
sliould  be  devoted  to  the  cultivation  or  exercise  of  anv  (ac- 
uity to  give  it  a  due  proportionate  development.  It  will 
not  readily  be  believed  that  there  are  any  faculties  which 
aie  supeitluous  or  which  do  not  contribute  to  the  general 
good  of  the  person;  that  the  legitimate  action  of  any  fac- 
ulty is  painful,  or  that  the  appro[)riate  action  of  any  fac- 
ulty infringes  on  the  happy  acttion  of  any  other  facultv. 
The  circumstances  of  an  individual  often  ft)rl)id  svmmefri- 
cal  development,  his  occupation  requiring  the   dispropor- 


74  Wir,L    AM>     MOHALH. 

tionate  (lovclopiiiont  of   some  ])articular  faculty;  but  tliis  is 
uot  against  the  general  idea  above  stated. 

ULTHIATK    MOKALITY. 

12.  The  same  distinction  between  absolute  morality  and 
relative  morality,  which  was  inferred  from  the  character  of 
Deity,  is  thought  to  be  a  logical  conclusion  from  the  facts 
above  stated.  JJUlmale  or  nhsolule  morality  is  Uial  conduct 
for  eacli  pcrmn  xohich  in  the  circunislauces  in  xohich  he  is 
placed,  all  things  and  all  ti}nes  bfing  considered,  luill  do  most 
to  promote  tlie  happiness  of  mankind  and  their  Creator.  Rel- 
ative morality  is  that  conduct  which,  in  the  relations  he 
sustains  to  others,  is,  as  to  him,  right  in  the  eyes  of  an  om- 
niscient being,  and  will  excuse  him  from  blame.  Ultimate 
morality  can  be  known  only  b}'  a  perfect  intellect  and  a 
perfect  moral  faculty,  and  therefore  is  known  only  to  the 
omniscient  Deity;  yet  it  is  the  point  which  all  should  strive 
for;  that  is,  they  should  strive  so  to  cultivate  all  their  fac- 
ulties as  to  come  as  near  to  it  as  possible.  The  second  rule 
leads  different  i)ersous  to  diflereut  conduct,  and  even  to 
that  which  is  directl}'  opposite,  explaining  facts  that  every- 
where exist.  Before  answering  the  pertinent  query.  How 
can  we  ascertain  the  second  rule  in  practical  life?  it  will 
be  necessary  to  give  an  exposition  of  the  nature  of  the 

MORAL  F.^CULTT. 

13.  The  moral  faculty  is  that  power  of  the  inind  xohich,  in 
all  conduct  which  may  affect  the  happiness  of  others,  awa/cens 
the  se)dimrnt  of  moral  obligation.  The  sentiment  of  right,  or 
moral  obligation,  exists,  with  greater  or  less  distinctness,  in 
all  men  who  have  not  stupefied  it  by  crime.  To  say  that 
this  is  produced  by  a  certain  power  of  mind,  is  nothing 
more  than  to  say,  that  the  mind  has  power  to  exercise  or 
produce  such  a  sentiment.  It  is  not  saying  whether  the 
mind  produces  this  sentiment  by  acting  as  a  whole,  or  by 
the  action  of  a  particular  part  of  the  substance  or  essence 
of  the  immaterial  mind,  or  the  brain  through  which  it  acts. 
This  question  presents  no  issue  which  has  anything  to  do 
with  the  practical  nature  of  the  sentiment,  and  therefore  is 
not  entitled  to  discussion  at  present. 

14.  A  little  reflection  will   sufl&ce   to   convince  any  one. 


WILL   AND    MORALS.  75 

that  the  moral  faculty  is  tlie , parent  of  the  sentiment;  and 
tbe  moral  sentiment  of  the  words  should,  ouf^lit,  etc.,  ex- 
pressing the  sentiment.  The  sentiment  or  idea  must  have 
existed  previous  to  the  word  expressing  it;  the  sentiment 
of  sublimity  was  the  originator  of  the  word.  The  words 
"color,"  "red,"  "blue," and  "olive"  would  be  impossible  and 
uselessin  theirpresentsense,  had  notthe  perce[)ti()nsof  colors 
existed  previous  to  the  word,  and  had  not  the  mintl  power 
to  ))roduce  them  again.  The  words  music,  harmony,  and 
mehnly  would  be  useless  had  the  mind  no  uuisical  faculty; 
the  same  is  true  of  any  word  expressing  the  action  of  any 
simple  uncombiued  faculty.  The  intellect  can  judge  of  the 
expediency — policy  of  an  action;  or  its  tendency  to  i)roduce 
happiness;  but  this  is  dilfcrent  from  oughtuess  which  can 
only  be  given  by  the  moral  faculty.  A  certain  amount  of 
intellectual  action  is  necessary  to  enable  one  of  these  sim- 
ple faculties  to  act.  Tbe  faculty  of  sublimity  cannot  act 
unless  the  intellect  takes  up  the  outlines  of  a  sublime  ob- 
ject. All  raetaph3'sicians  agree,  that  the  instinctive  or  nat- 
ural action  of  each  sim])le  faculty  of  the  mind  ])roduces  in 
all  men  the  same  mental  state,  or  sentiment,  dirteiing  onl}'^ 
in  the  degrees  of  intensity.  If  this  be  true,  the  moral  fac- 
ulty enforces  in  all  men,  the  same  circumstances,  the  same 
conduct.  But  this  is  notoriously  contrary  to  fact.  One 
man  eats  meat  on  Friday  conscientiously,  and  another  with 
as  good  a  conscience  abstains.  Nothing  is  more  common 
than  for  men's  conscience  to  conflict.  Yet  it  is  a  simple 
facultj'.  How  is  this  apparent  contradiction  to  be  explained? 
15.  The  explanation  is  ready,  and  we  thiidc  will  be  satis- 
factory. As  before  stated,  a  certain  amount  of  intellectual 
action  is  necessary,  as  a  condition  of  the  action  of  all  the 
simple  faculties  of  the  mind.  The  outlines  of  an  object 
must  be  ])erceived  before  it  ran  be  i)ronounced,  b}'  the  ac- 
tion of  the  faculty  of  sublimity,  to  be  sublime  or  otherwise. 
The  amount  of  intellectual  action  necessary  to  the  action  of 
some  faculties  is  greater  than  for  others.  A  small  amount 
of  intellectual  action  is  sufficient  for  the  action  of  the  facul- 
ties of  color,  and  music;  more  for  the  action  of  sublimity, 
and  beauty;  and  still  more  for  the  action  of  the  moral  fac- 
ulties. Previous  to  the  action  of  the  moral  faculties,  there 
must  be  an  action  of  all  those  powers  of  mind  that  impart  a 
knowledge  of,  and  constitute  the  relations  of  the  person  to 
all  others  whom  his  conduct  may  allect.     This  relation  to 


7(5  WILI,    AM)    MOUALS. 

uIIkth,  consistH  not  simply  in  tlio  C'xt(;rniil  circnmstance.s  of 
the  person,  but  in  the  Htnte  of  each  other  faculty,  coiis/jicu- 
ous  (Diiinuj  xohicli  are  mni's  rdujiuns  and  moralhcli'^fH.  These 
are  not  alike  in  any  two  i)ersons,  and  in  many  they  are  the 
reverse;  hence  the  moral  sentiment  must  necessarily  be 
difl'erent  in  different  persons.  We  may  now  consider  the 
means  of  the 

CULTIVATION    OF    THE    MOKAL    FACULTY. 

IG.  The  moral  faculty,  being  a  simple  faculty  of  the 
mind,  acting  instinctively,  or  spontaneously,  that  is,  by  the 
force  of  its  own  nature,  when  the  conditions  are  supplied, 
the  laws  of  its  cultivation  are  similar  to  those  of  other  fac- 
ulties. It  should  be  kept  in  mind,  that  the  natural  action 
of  all  the  primary  or  simjjle  faculties  are  the  same  in  all 
men  and  in  all  ages.  This  is  an  admitted  principle,  and 
must  be  so,  else  all  scientific  knowledge  of  mind  is  at  an 
end.  All,  then,  that  the  cultivation  of  the  nioral  faculty, 
simply  as  such,  can  do,  is,  not  to  change  or  reverse  the  ap- 
provals or  disapprovals,  but  to  increase  the  distinctness, 
j)Ower,  and  delicacy  of  its  emotions.  Tlie  most  stu^jid  clown 
does  not  think  liarmony  discord,  or  melody  harshness;  nor 
does  he  think  a  sublime  or  a  beautiful  object  the  reverse. 
But  those  who  have  cultivated  these  faculties,  have  a  much 
stronger  and  more  delicate  action  of  them.  Every  one 
knows  that  the  way  to  cultivate  any  power  of  mind,  is,  to 
e.Kercise  it  with  system  an<l  perseverance.  He  who  wishes 
to  cultivate  the  logical  faculty,  plies  himself  to  solving  the 
problems  and  demonstrating  the  theorems  of  Euclid.  He 
who  woulil  improve  his  musical  powers  composes  music, 
sings,  and  plays  instruments  of  mu.sic.  The  obvious  way, 
then,  to  cultivate  the  moral  faculty,  is,  carefaUif  to  consult 
tkf  moral  sense  in  every  act  invoicing  ??i'  ral  principle.  If  the 
object  of  action  be,  as  it  too  often  is,  to  gain  the  applause 
autl  approbation  of  our  fellow-meu,  or  to  gain  wealth,  irre- 
spective of  the  action  of  the  moral  sense,  it  is  not  cultivated, 
but  rather  stupefied.  We  now  come  to  consuler  an  impor- 
tant part  of  our  subject,  namely,  how  we  may  ascertain, 
for  practical  life,  as  to  one's  self, 

THE    RULE    OF    ItlGHT. 

17.  As  the  moral  faculties,  as  shown  above,  act  on  the 


WILT.    AND    MORALS.  77 

materials  furnished  bv  the  intellect,  consisting  of  the  rela- 
tions   apprehended    or  su]iposed  to    be    apprehended,  the 
moral  sense   will  be  accordinjif  to  the  state  of  the  intellect. 
The  method  of  ascertaining  the  rule  of  right  in  any   given 
case  is  to  enlighten  the  intellect  as  far  as  may  be   as   to  the 
relations  one  sustains  to  other  beings.     One  should   avMil 
himself  of  all  means  within  hisreacli — the  Bible,  the  conver- 
sations of  wise  men  who  have  considered  these  things,  books 
of  casuistry,  and  all  other  means  of  informing  the  intellect. 
But  one  must  depend  on  his  own  judgment  as  to  the  books 
he  shall  consult,   the  importance    lie   shall   attach   to   their 
teachings,  and,  in   the  last  resort,   his  conscience  will  act 
upon  the  material  so  furnished  to  it  by  his  intellect.     If  it 
be  asked  how  we  are  to  know  that  this  diligence  ought  to 
be  used,  1  answer  that  common  sense  and  conscience  teach 
that  proper  exertion  ought  to  be  ujade  to  ascertain   duty. 
When  the  conscience  thus  acts,  its  decisions  are  peremjitory 
and  final,  without  appeal  and  without  exception.     It  is  the 
rule  of  right  to  which  his  conduct  should  conform;  and  by 
which  he  ought  to  be  judged  l)y  all  moral  tribunals.     If  lie 
does  not  conform  to  the  rule  of  absolute  right  (as  is  often 
the  case),  it  is  owing  to   the   imperfection   of  his   faculties. 
He  has  done  his  best  to  ascertain  that  rule      If  this   is  not 
his  rule  of  right,  he  has  no  means  of  ascertaining  it,   and 
must  guess  in  the  dark      If  one  has  inpairod  his  faculties, 
he  may  have  sinned  in  so  doing,   but  it  would  be  contrary 
to  the  common  sense  and  cultivated  reason    of   mankind,  to 
demand  what  is  be^'ond  liis  present  capacity  to  accomplish. 
If  the  above  rule  is  not  correct,  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain 
duty.     If  a  person  believes  in  any  sui)ernatural  or  natural 
code  of  morals,  his  conscience  would  enforce  it.     Some  have 
contended  that  men  sometimes  do  wrong  when  acting  ac- 
cording to  the  distinct  dictation  of  conscience;   but  this  is 
owing  to  a  confusion   of  ideas  consequent  on   not   making 
the  above  distinction  between  absolute  morality  and  relative 
morality.     It  is  seen   that  men's  consciences  are    different 
and  reverse  from  each  other;  it  is  bcilieved  right  is  identical 
and  unchangeable.     In  reconciling  these  ideas  they  are  led 
into  error.     If  it  is  ever  right  to  act  counter  to  conscience, 
the  cases  should  be  carefully  pointed  out;  but  what  writer 
on  casuistry  ever  undertook   sucli    a  task?     Let  him    who 
thinks  it  right  to  violate  conscieiic(%  undertake  to  point  out 
the  [irecise  circumstances  in  wliicli  it  should  be  done.     Be- 


(8  WILL    ANP    MOHALS. 

sides,  if  conseicHce  is  not  u  rule  of  nioiiil  conduct,  we 
have  no  means  of  ascertfiiiiinpf  duty;  for  the  decisions  of 
our  best  judg:nient  are  a  basis  on  wLicb  conscience  acts. 
The  voice  of  poets  (who  are  thought  to  be  more  trutliful 
expositors  of  human  nature  than  theorists)  is  not  wanting 
to  substantiate  the  foregoing  ideas.     One  says: 

"  He  that  does  the  best  his  circuinstances  allow. 
Does  well,  acts  nobly,  angels  covild  do  no  more." 

Another  not  unknown  to  fame  says  : 

"  Whatever  creed  be  taught  or  land  be  trod, 
Tlie  voice  of  conscience  is  the  voice  of  God." 

Another  of  a  still  greater  fame  as  a  Christian  writer  says: 

"  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done. 

Or  warns  me  n<jt  to  do; 
This  teac:h  me  more  than  hell  to  slum, 

Tliat  more  than  heaven  pursue." 

18.  We  have  thus  given  the  fundamental  principles  of  a 
sj'stem  of  morals.  To  apply  these  to  practical  life  would  be 
foreign  to  our  purpose,  and  would  swell  this  volume  bej'ond 
its  prescribed  limits.  Besides,  every  moral  act  rests  on  its 
own  merits,  and  were  all  these  given,  the  "world  itself 
could  not  contain  the  books  that  should  be  written."  It  is 
more  feasible  and  practical  to  prove  first  principles,  so  that 
each  one  can,  by  their  help,  ascertain  his  duty  in  every 
conceivable  circumstance.  We  here  fully  adopt  the  follow- 
ing doctrine  and  language  of  President  Mahan  in  the  preface 
to  his  Moral  Philosophy.  He  says:  "The  unvcrtainhj  which 
commonly  attends  disquisitions  in  Moral  Philosoph}'  is 
owing,  as  it  appears  to  me,  to  the  reason  stated  above — the 
want  of  well-settled  ideas  of  the  true  end  and  aim  of  such 
a  science.  Let  it  once  be  understood  that  its  sphere  is  not 
to  specify,  in  a  formal  manner,  the  varied  duties  of  man; 
not  to  decide  whether  such  and  such  particular  courses  of 
conduct  are  wright  or  wrong,  but  to  furnish  and  elucidate 
universal  formulas  or  principles,  in  the  light  of  which  all 
such  questions  may  be  answered  b^'  the  student  for  him- 
self, and  then  moral  philosophy  will  take  its  place,  not 
among  the  uncertain,   but  the  certain  sciences." 

It  is  earnestly  hoped  that  the  brevity  with  which  these 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  79 

principles  have  been  enunciated  and  elucidated  will  not 
lead  to  their  misapprehension;  if  anj'  carelessly  or  will- 
fully misconstrue  them,  their  sin  be  upon  their  own  head. 
Owing  to  its  intrinsic  inj})()rtance,  in  the  li<^ht  of  the  fore- 
going- principles,  we  subjoin  the  following  consideration 
of  human  or  national  governments. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HUMAN    OR    NATIONAL    GOVERNMENTS. 

19.  Governments  are  necessary  to  secure  and  promote 
the  highest  happiness  of  the  governed;  therefore  they  are 
right.  Good  governments  are  desirable,  but  poor  ones 
better  than  none;  even  tyranny  is  better  than  anarchy. 
Therefore,  governments  should  be  obeyed,  with  the  follow- 
ing exceptions: 

(1.)  As  governments  are  instituted  and  sustained  to  pro- 
tect life,  liberty,  property,  and  such  pursuits  of  happiness 
as  do  not  infringe  on  the  rights  of  others;  whenever  they 
become  destructive  of  these  ends,  it  is  the  right  of  the 
people  to  alter  or  abolish  them!  Revolution,  rebellion, 
and  secession  are  rights  inherent  in  the  people.  Wliat  ex- 
tent of  grievance  will  justify,  or  what  prospect  of  forming 
a  better  government  will  warrant  them,  is  matter  for  sound 
discretion.  That  such  is  the  belief  of  Americans  since  the 
Revolution,  is  well  attested  each  Fourth  of  July. 

(2  )  When  the  mandates  cf  government  are  contrary  to 
the  dictates  of  conscience.  If  the  foregoing  principles  are 
true,  there  is  no  exception  to  the  princii)le  that  the  dictate 
of  conscience  is  the  rule  of  duty  or  conduct  for  the  indi- 
vidual. 

In  such  a  case,  when  conscience  is  obeyed  and  law  vio- 
lated, one  of  three  courses  must  be  taken.  The  person 
must  quietly  submit  to  the  penalty  of  the  law,  or  escape  it 
by  stealth,  or  openly  resist  it.  As  either  is  right,  it  is  a 
matter  of  discretion  which  sh;dl  be  taken.  The  tirst  proves 
the  sulleier's  sincerity,  and  exerts  a  powerful  moral  influ- 
ence.    The  second  is  justifiable  on  the  score  of  self-preser- 


80  WIM,    AN!)    MOKALS. 

valioii.  Tlio  jliird,  ill  niso  tlie  iiiteiitioi)  is  to  reform  povern- 
iiKMil,  aiuniiiit.s  to  reljellioii;  and  the  above  remarks  will 
apply;  if  the  intention  is  to  sacrifice  the  resisters  as  rnar- 
tvrs,  it  is  matter  of  discretion  whether  such  is  the  best 
conrst^ 

20.  The  followinfi^  rMnarks  on  this  subject,  found  in 
Macaul.iy's  "History  of  England"  (pp.  305),  are  wortliy 
of  consideration.  This  justly  aj)proved  writer,  inakinf(  no 
pretension  to  casuistry,  sjjeaks  as  a  practical  man  and  a 
historiiin.  He  says:  "  It  is  true  that  to  trace  the  exact 
boundary  between  rightful  and  wrongful  resistance  is  im- 
possible: but  this  impossibility  arises  from  the  nature  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  is  found  in  almost  every  part  of  ethi- 
cal science.  A  good  action  is  not  distinguished  from  a  bad 
action  by  marks  so  plain  as  those  which  distinguish  a  hex- 
agon from  a  square.  There  is  a  frontier  where  virtue  and 
vice  fade  into  each  other.  Who  has  ever  been  able  to  de- 
fine the  exact  boundary  between  courage  and  rashness,  be- 
tween ])rudenoe  and  cowardice,  between  frugality  and 
avarice,  between  lil)erulity  and  prodigality?  Who  has  been 
able  to  say  how  far  mercy  to  offenders  ought  to  l)e  carried, 
and  where  it  ceases  to  deserve  the  name  of  mercy  and  l)e- 
comes  a  pernicious  weakness?  What  casuist,  what  law- 
giver, has  ever  been  able  to  mark  nicely  tlie  limits  of  the 
right  of  self-defense  ?  All  our  jurists  hold  that  a  certain 
quantity  of  risk  to  life  or  limb  justifies  a  man  in  shooting 
or  stabbing  an  assailant:  but  they  have  long  given  up  in 
despair  the  attempt  to  describe  in  precise  words,  that 
quantity  of  risk.  They  only  say  it  must  be,  not  a  slight 
risk,  but  a  risk  such  as  would  cause  serious  apprehension 
to  a  man  of  firm  mind;  and  who  will  undertake  to  say  what 
is  the  precise  amount  f)f  ajiprehension  which  deserves  toMje 
called  serious,  or  what  is  the  precise  texture  of  mind  which 
deserves  to  lie  called  firm?  It  is  doubtless  to  be  regretted 
that  words  and  the  nature  of  tilings  do  not  admit  of  more 
accurate  legislation:  nor  can  it  be  denied  that  wrong  will 
often  be  done  wlien  men  are  judges  in  their  own  cause,  ;ind 
proceed  instantly  to  execute  their  own  judgment.  Yet  who 
would,  on  that  a''count,  interdict  all  self-defense?  The 
riglit  which  a  jieojile  has  to  resist  a  bad  government  bears 
a  close  analogy  to  the  right  which  an  individual,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  legal  protection,  has  to  slay  an  assailant.  In  both 
cases  the  evil  must  be  iifrave.     In  both  cases  all  resfularand 


WILL    AND    MOKALS.  81 

peaceable  modes  of  defence  must  be  exhausted  before  the 
aggrieved  party  resorts  to  extremities.  In  both  cases  an 
awful  responsibility  is  incurred.  In  both  the  burden  of 
proof  lies  on  him  who  has  ventured  on  so  des])erate  an  ex- 
pedient; and,  if  he  fails  to  vindicate  himself,  he  is  justly 
liable  to  the  severest  penalties.  But  in  neither  case  can 
we  absolutely  deny  the  existence  of  the  right.  A  man  be- 
set by  assassins  is  not  bound  to  let  himself  be  tortured  and 
butchered,  without  using  his  wea})ons,  because  nobody  has 
been  able  precisely  to  define  the  amount  of  danger  which 
justifies  homicide.  Nor  is  society  bound  to  endure  pas- 
sively- all  that  tyranny  can  inflict,  because  nobody  has  been 
able  precisely  to  define  the  amount  of  misgovern ment  which 
justifies  rebellion."  As  an  important  adjunct  of  morals  and 
government,  we  subjoin  the  following  considerations  of 

PUNISHMENT    OR    RETRIBUTIOX. 

21.  Of  that  ])unishment  which  Deity  may  inflict  after 
death,  for  moral  delinquencies  before,  we  have  nothing  to 
say.  This  is  a  question  of  theology,  and  to  theologians  we 
shall  leave  it.  This  punishment  emanates  from  the  Divine 
Will,  and  nothing  respecting  it  can  be  known  with  definite 
certainty,  except  by  revelation,  or  some  ]>i)sitive  communi- 
cation from  Deity;  except  what  can  be  inferred  from  liis 
character.  If  we  know  his  diarncti'r,  the  (^lul  or  ohjecl  of  his 
actions  is  matter  of  logical  inference;  and  if  our  intellect 
is  suflticient  to  judge  of  the  a|)i)licability  of  means  to  that 
end,  we  can  determine,  at  least  negatively,  that  He  will  not 
use  means  nowise  adapted  to  accomplish  the  end.  The 
fact  that  at  death  our  being  undergoes  a  great  modification, 
and  that  we  have  no  means  of  knowing  precisely  what  our 
faculties  will  be  after  that  change,  seems  to  ignore  all  pre- 
cise argumentation  from  this  to  that.  Perhaps  it  is  partly 
owing  to  this  that  the  sincere  believers  in  revelation  con- 
strue it  to  teach  so  many  ditferent  ideas  with  regard  to 
future  ])unishment  The  most  that  philosophy  can  say  is, 
that  so  long  as  existence  remains,  so  much  of  our  present 
constitution  will  lemaiii  as  is  necessary  to  preserve  identity: 
and  this  is  enough  to  show  conclusively  that  a  virtuous  life 
will  mud)  more  conduce  to  a  capacity  for  happiness  after 
death  than  a  vicious  one. 

22.  That  punishment  which  national  governments  inflict 


82  •  WILL    AND    MORALS. 

for  tlio  violation  of  its  laws,  Hhonkl,  as  far  as  practicable, 
corrcHpoiid  with  rif,'lit  or  inoralily.  The  object  is  the  same 
— huuiiin  li!ij)i)iiiesH.  The  object  of  punislinient,  then,  is 
protection  of  society  and  reformation  of  the  criminal. 
Those  means  should  be  used  which  are  best  adapted  to 
these  ends.  The  details  of  such  treatment  are  foreign  to 
the  objects  of  this  work. 

23.  Aside  from  tbe  outward  and  tangible  punishment  of 
vice,  the  keen  and  delicate  relish  of  virtuous  action  is  gradu- 
ally destroyed.  And  the  more  any  faculties  are  unduly  de- 
veloped and  exercised,  which  alone  constitutes  vice,  the 
more  the  person  is  likely  to  engage  in  that  conduct  which 
will  terminate  disastrously.  These  considerations,  the  most 
weighty  if  rightly  viewed,  and  the  greatest  bulwark  of  vir- 
tue, lose  their  force  as  the  mind  increases  in  moral  turpi- 
tude; hence  the  necessity  of  prisons  and  positive  inflictions. 
Punishment  being  protective  and  reformatory,  all  excess, 
either  in  duration  or  degree,  which  does  not  conduce  to 
this  end,  being  wanton  cruelty,  can  have  no  moral  force. 
It  may  awaken  the  slavish  fear  which  the  vanquished  has 
for  an  inexorable  tyrant,  but  can  never  awaken  love,  re- 
spect, or  confidence. 

2-4.  President  Mahan,  in  his  Moral  Philosophy,  says  the 
idea  of  retribution  "  has  its  basis  in  the  idea  of  merit  and 
demerit,  as  inlriitsicaUy  attacliing  to  right  or  wrong  moral 
action.  The  ill-desert  attaching  to  wrong-doing  pertains 
exclusively  to  what  is  intrinsic  iu  the  action  itself,  and 
does  not  depend  at  all  upon  the  conduct  of  the  subject  af- 
ter Us  pe7-pel ration.  The  act  iu  itself  remains  what  it  is, 
and  consequently  its  ill-desert,  whatever  the  subsequent 
conduct  of  the  perpetrator  may  be." 

25.  It  is  a  little  diliicult  to  determine  precisely  what  is 
meant  b}'  the  phrase,  "  demerit  intrinsically  attaching  to 
Wright  or  wrong  moral  action."  If  it  be  meant  that  the 
action  is  the  measure  of  moral  turpitude  and  punishment, 
independent  of  the  constitution  or  external  circumstances 
of  the  subject  acting,  few  will  be  induced  to  receive  it. 
The  foregoing  theory  is,  that  the  reformation  or  future 
well-being  of  the  moral  delinquent,  and  the  protection  of 
society,  is  the  basis  of,  and  is  identical  with,  "  the  merit  or 
demerit  intrinsically  attaching  to  right  or  wrong  moral 
action."  The  object,  then,  of  retribution  or  punishment  is, 
to  secure  good  or  happiness.     To  secure  this,  its  necessity 


AVILL    AND    MORALS.  83 

has  its  basis  in  the  nature  of  man,  including  his  moral 
sense  or  conscience,  and  the  constitution  of  that  society 
the  happiness  of  which  his  conduct  may  affect. 

2G.  All  facts  show  that  some  men  are  created  or  born  with 
a  constitution  much  nunc  favorable  to  virtue  or  vice  than 
others.  Those  who  deny  tliis  are  beyond  the  reach  of  ar^i^u- 
meut.  It  is  equally  apparent  that  some  are,  in  their  help- 
less years,  while  habits  and  character  are  most  rapidly 
formed,  surrounded  by  circumstances  more  favorable  to  vir- 
tue, than  others.  To  say  that  in  a  government  so  perfect 
that  all  these  things  can  be  lin(j\vn  and  taken  into  the  ac- 
count, ns  is  the  case  with  mor.d  government,  desert  of 
punishment  "  attaches  to  what  is  intrinsic  in  the  act  itself," 
will  appear  to  muny  as  a  flagrant  violation  of  the  very  gist 
and  end  of  punishment  "which  both  from  the  first  and 
now,  was,  and  is,  to "  promote  the  highest  happiness  of 
sentient  existence,  and  of  each  individual  as  a  constituent 
element  thereof. 

27.  If  it  be  said,  "  severity  of  punishment  is  necessary  to 
inspire  the  governed  with  reverence  for  the  dignity  of  the 
government,"  I  answer,  will  excessive,  •  useless  cruelty 
awaken  in  the  minds  of  reasonable  beings  love  and  reverence 
for  the  iijflictor?  Or  is  it  best  to  conform  governments 
to  the  ideas  of  unreasonable  men,  and  demons?  In  the 
above  quotation  the  idea  is  clearly  announced  that  re- 
pentance or  reformation  forms  no  ground  of  the  omission  of 
punishment.  On  the  foregoing  theory,  a  genuine  reforma- 
tion which  is  known,  destroys  every  ground  or  reason  of 
punishment. 

(1.)  The  highest  good  of  the  offender  is  alreadj'  eftected 
by  his  reformation.  Tiie  force  of  the  example  on  the 
vicious  is  simply  that  they  can  escape  punishment  by  re- 
forming; an  example  that  all  good  men  Avould  like  to  see 
followed.  True,  this  will  not  exhibit  the  mercy  of  the 
Killer;  for  the  sternest  justice  can  go  no  further.  The  per- 
sistence in  the  infliction  of  positive  moral  |)unisl)ment  on 
beings  of  imj)erfect  organization,  and  but  little  t'Xi)erience 
in  existence,  after  a  sincere  rei)entaiice  and  reformation, 
would  be  a  wanton,  motiveless  act  of  tyrannical  cruelty 
unparalleled  in  the  acts  of  the  Iiiquisition,  or  pan- 
demonium; for  these  were  prompted  V)y  selfish  I'nds. 

28.  Human  governments  cannot  recognize  tliis  principle, 
simply  because  they  cannot  distinguish  between  a  genuine 


84  WILL    AND    MOKALS. 

and  a  feigned  rcpeiitanco;  no  sncli  reason  exists  in  moral 
Pfovernnuiiii.  And  what  liarm  lias  ever  occurred,  when 
executive  clenjency  has  released  from  punishment  one  who 
has  given  long  and  indubitable  proof  of  reformation  ? 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT. 

29.  Contrary  to  my  oris:inal  intention,  to  gratify  the 
wishes  of  some,  I  have  consented  to  apply  the  foregoing 
abstract  rules  of  morals  and  government,  to  this  much- 
mooted  subject.  All  that  can  l)e  attetn])ted  is,  to  present 
a  mere  skeleton  of  the  subject,  leaving  the  reader  to  fill  up 
those  details  which  would  swell  this  volume  beyond  its 
prescribed  limits. 

30.  It  is  argued,  affirmatively. 

(1.)  That  it  is  the  express  command  of  God  in  the  text, 
"  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed."  This  text,  as  distinguished  from  Jewish  national 
laws,  is  a  command  given  to  Noah,  as  the  representative 
and  progenitor  of  all  posterity,  and  becomes  binding  on 
the  race. 

(2.)  That  it  more  effectually  prevents  murder,  by  the 
force  of  exemplary  punishment. 

(3.)  That  it  more  effectually  prevents  murder  by  de- 
priving the  murderer  of  the  ])ower  of  committing  further 
crime. 

31.  Negative!}',  it  is  argued  in  reply  to  the  first  argu- 
ment above,  that  no  law  given  to  Jews  is  binding,  for  if 
one  is,  all  are,  "  which  proves  too  much,  and  therefore 
proves  nothing."  (2.)  That  it  is  doubtful  whether  the 
above  text  is  a  com  wand,  or  a  mere  maxim  or  ])roverb,  or 
a  prophecy.  (3.)  Whether  it  be  binding  on  other  nations. 
(4.)  Whether  it  was  not  repealed  by  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion, even  if  it  were  a  command.  The  second  argument, 
so  far  as  it  is  a  ju-inri,  or  from  principle,  is  merely  begging 
the  question.  History  and  reason  concur  to  prove  that 
thai  punishment   which  is  most  properly   adapted  or  pro- 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  85 

portioned  to  the  crime,  has  the  greatest  exemplary  force. 
An  nnjnst  degree  of  piinishiuent  but  hardens  the  heart. 
Whetlier  cai)ital  punishment  be  adii/itad  to  the  crime  is  the 
very  question  at  issue.  Probably  there  has  not  been  a  suf- 
ficiently extended  trial  of  both  ujethods  of  punishment  to 
make  out  a  conclusive  argument.  So  far  as  trial  has  been 
had,  it  seems,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  to  be  against  cajjital 
l^unishment. 

With  our  present,  or  more  ]jerfect  state-prison  arrange- 
ments, there  can  be  but  little  force  to  the  third  argument. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind,  that  if  the  foregoing  essay 
develops  correct  principles,  the  proper  objects  of  all 
])unishment  are  protection  of  society  and  reformation  of  the 
criminal;  therefore,  all  paiu  inflicted  which  is  not  neces- 
'sary  to  the  one,  or  does  not  tend  to  the  other,  is  vindicative 
and  wrong. 

32.  (1.)  The  first  argument  against  capital  p.unishment 
is,  that  the  innocent  sometimes  suffer.  Notwithstanding 
that,  in  favor  of  life,  the  law  strongl}'  favors  the  accused; 
yet  it  is  too  fre(]uent  for  the  innocent  to  be  accused,  tried, 
convicted,  sentenced,  executed,  and  afterwards  proved  to 
be  so.  In  case  of  capital  punishment,  no  restitution  can 
be  made;  but  in  case  of  imprisuument  by  executive  par- 
don, the  unfortunate  sullerercan  be  restored  to  character 
and  liberty;  and  might,  by  legislative  provision,  have  the 
l)ittance  he  has  earned.  This  argument  must  have  cou- 
sideral)le  weight,  and  can  only  be  set  aside  by  necessity. 

(2.)  The  criminal  has  time  and  space  -for  repentance  and 
reformation.  The  arrangements  of  penitentiaries  are  de- 
signed, and  in  a  good  degree  calculated,  to  quiet  and  re- 
press the  action  of  those  faculties  which  prompt  to  crime 
and  to  promote  the  action  of  those  which  pronjpt  to  vir- 
tuous action.  In  mcjst  cases  reformation  is  possible,  in 
some  actual,  and  in  a  few  hoi)eless.  On  the  hypothesis 
that  probation  absolutely  ceases  with  life,  and  endless,  un- 
mitigable  torment  awaits  the  culprit,  this  consideration 
swells  to  an  importance  inconceivable  to  a  Unite  mind. 

33.  (3.)  The  criuiinal,  if  iniprisoned,  niav  earn  something 
for  his  family,  if  he  has  one  (and  the  legislature  may  give 
it  them);  if  not,  he  may  earn  something  for  the  State. 

(4.)  In  case  of  imprisonment  punishment  can  he  made  a 
little  more  certain  than  in  case  of  hanging;  such  is  the  feel- 
ing of  juries  and  executive  functionaries;  and  as  Blackstoue 


80  WILL    AND    MOUALS. 

truly  says,  in  substance,  the  exemplary  force  of  jmnish- 
nient  depends  not  so  much  on  its  i^everili/ as  on  its  cnrlainly. 
IVIurderei's,  almost  exclusively,  either  expect  to  escape  pun- 
ishment or  are  driven  by  their  passions  to  such  desperation 
that  they  are  willing  to  sacrifice  themselves.  In  England, 
when  a  great  number  of  petty  crimes  were  punished  with 
death,  those  crimes  were  astonishingly  ])revalent.  If,  in 
the  nature  of  niind,  and  in  the  nature  of  things  external  to 
the  mind,  imprisonment  be  more  }»roportioued  to  the  crime 
than  death,  then  its  exemplary  force  as  a  preventive  of 
murder  will  be  greater.  On  principle,  a  priori,  this  is 
thought  to  be  the  case;  a  sufficiently  extended  trial  has 
probably  not  taken  place  to  prove  it,  a  posteriori,  fronj  facts. 


CHAPTER   y. 

OF    PERSONAL    IDENTITY. 

34.  Personal  identity  may  be  considered  under  two  di- 
visions: First,  the  fact  or  existence  of  identity;  second, 
the  knowledge,  evidence,  or  proof  of  identity.  Feisonal 
ideiilihj  may  be  said  to  consist  of  a  conslitiition  of  our  iinture 
btj  \chich  Uif.re,  is  some  degree  of  simihirih/  and  caumlive  in- 
Jlueiice  between  tite  successive  mentcd  states  or  ttiouglds,  feel- 
ings, and  volitions.  • 

(1.)  There  is  not  a  precise  similarity  in  body  or  mind  at 
any  two  different  periods  of  time.  There  is  a  great  dissim- 
ilarity between  the  young  babe  and  the  veteran  ready  to 
sink  into  the  grave,  yet  they  are  the  same  identical  person. 
Identity  must  be  either  of  the  constitution  or  of  the  con- 
stituent substance.  It  cannot  be  an  identity  of  the  con- 
stituent elements  of  the  physical  system;  for  physiologists 
agree  that  these  are  constantly  changing,  and  that  there  is 
an  entire  change  once  in  seven  years.  It  cannot  be  iden- 
tity of  the  constituent  elements  of  mind,  for  if  mind  is  an 
attenuated  form  of  matter,  the  elementary  particles  of  mat- 
ter will  change Avitb  those  of  the  physical  system;  but  if 
mind  be  spiritual  and  immaterial,  it  is  beyond  the  ccjgni- 
zauce  of  our  faculties,  except  by  consciousness,  which  can 
give  us  no  information  on  the^ubject.     Since,  then,  it  can- 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  87 

not  be  identitj'  of  constituent  substance,  and  since  there  is 
not  a  complete  sameness  at  successive  periods,  identity 
must  be  sucb  a  constitution  as  produces  some  dejjfree  of 
similarity  between  the  successive  mental  states.  This  can 
only  be  uniformly  jnoduced  by  some  causative  influence  in 
the  antecedents  over  the  subsequents. 

35.  It  is  conceived  that  philosophy  can  afford  no  solution 
of  the  question  whether  mind  is  material  or  imnjaterial  in 
its  or<^anization.  Most  pliysiologists  admit  that  mind  in  its 
manifestations  is  dependent  on,  and  aft'ected  by,  the  organ- 
ized matter  of  the  brain  and  nervous  system,  r/.s  if  it  were 
part  mtd  parcel  <>/'  Ihat  vitalized  matter.  It  is  said  b}'  the  ma- 
terialist that  "  death  destroys  this  organization,  and  conse- 
quently all  i)()wer  of  mental  manifestation.'  But  what 
proof  have  they  that  there  is  not  an  immaterial  substratum 
capable  of  mental  manifestation  dependent  on  the  orgiini- 
zation  of  the  |)hysi{;al  system  during  its  connection  there- 
with, but  self-acting  afterwards?  Or  what  evidence  have 
they  that,  if  mind  be  niaterial,  on  the  dissolution  of  the 
more  gross  and  tangible  part  of  our  physical  systems  a 
more  refined  and  attenuated  form  of  material  organization 
may  not  remain  ca])able  of  manifesting  mind? 

36.  (2.)  The  knowledge  or  proof  of  identity  is  made  out 
by  the  testimoiiy  of  consciousness  and  memor}'.  At  each 
successive  period  we  are  conscious  of  certain  mental  states; 
by  consciousness  we  know  that  our  present  memory  is  a 
part  of  ourselves.  This  memory  links  together  the  succes- 
sive conscious  states,  convincing  that  they  all  belonged  to 
UH.  No  one  doubts  tlie  truthfulness  of  memory  wiien  le- 
gitimately exercised.  It  being  a  single  power  or  faculty  of 
the  mind,  like  all  other  simple  mental  faculties,  its  legiti- 
mate conclusions  must  be  taken  as  final  or  all  knowledge 
and  reasoning  must  come  to  an  end.  But  it  is  said  "  that 
memory  is  often  erroneous."  I  answer,  so  are  tlie  most 
simple  faculties  of  observation.  Persons  often  diU'er  in  re- 
gard to  the  color  and  shai^e  of  objects  the}'  have  both  seen; 
but  this  is  owing,  not  to  tlie  fallibility  of  the  faculties  them- 
selves, but  tlieir  hurried,  confused,  and  imperfect  exercise, 
by  which  a  wrong  idea  is  had  at  the  time.  So  it  is  with 
memory;  if  it  ever  err,  it  is  owing  to  an  imperfect  exercise 
at  the  time  the  impres.sion  is  made,  or  a  subsequent  dis- 
eased or  decaj'ed  state  of  the  physical  system  sufficient  to 
produce  some  degree  of  mental  unsoundness. 


88  WILL    AM)    MOKALS. 

37.  Aliliou^'li  identity  includes  all  that  (monies  within  the 
sphere  or  i)ale  uf  coiiHciousness,  yet  all  of  consciousness  is 
not  essential  to  identity  or  the  person.  We  may  ascertain 
the  extent  of  identity  by  seeing  what  i)art  may  be  removed 
without  destroying  tlie  person.  Either  of  our  limbs  may 
be  removed  and  identity  still  remain;  so  any  part  of  the 
])hysical  system  may  be  removed  without  destroying  iden- 
tity which  does  not  destroy  the  vitality  of  such  system.  It 
will  readily  be  conceded  that  the  jdiysical  system  cannot 
live  without  tlie  mental,  and  that  it  is  not  absurd  for  the 
mental  to  exist  after  the  physical  system  is  dissolved;  there- 
fore identity  must  be  in  the  mind,  and  not  in  the  matter 
tliJit  surrounds  it.  If  we  examine  still  further  we  shall  find 
that  some  faculties  of  mind  may  be  removed  without  de- 
stroying identity  or  the  person.  In  some  persons,  not  de- 
ficient in  intellect,  some  faculties  are  almost  wanting. 
George  Combe,  although  a  great  philosopher,  was  so  des- 
titute of  tlie  faculty  of  calculation  that  he  never  could  learn 
the  multii)lication  table.  If  we  continue  this  trimming 
]iroces.s  we  shall  tind  that  any  faculty  can  be  removed  and 
identity  still  remain,  until  we  destroy'  one  of  the  three  gi'eat 
departments  of  mind — the  intellect  or  knowing  part,  the 
sensibility  or  department  of  desire  and  feeling  or  emotion, 
and  the  will  or  acting  part.  If  either  of  these  is  gone,  the 
jxnsDU  or  identity  is  broken  up.  If  intellect  be  wanting, 
desire  is  totally  blind  as  to  the  means  of  its  own  gratifica- 
tion, (u:  even  of  sustaining  existence;  if  desire  were  want- 
ing, whatever  be  the  knowledge,  there  could  be  no  motive 
to  action;  and  if  the  will  be  wanting,  though  intellect  and 
desire  are  full,  yet  no  action  could  take  place  in  accordance 
with  the  one  or  in  gratification  of  the  other.  Therefore, 
whatever  changes  have  taken  place  in  the  past  or  may  in 
the  future,  we  may  safelv  say  that  some  degree  of  intellect, 
sensibility,  and  will  are  necessary  to   continue   personalit}'. 

38.  The  question  has  been  asked,  "  Do  persons  think  in 
a  sound  sleep?"  It  would  seem  that  any  definition  of 
'' thought "  is  defective  that  does  not  include  conscious- 
ness. Thought  may  be  defined  to  be  a  conscious  succes- 
sion or  variation  of  mental  phenomena.  This  may  be  illus- 
trated by  the  phent)menon  of  physical  pain,  which  is  a  dis- 
a^ieeable  feeling  or  sensation  caused  by  a  disordered  state 
of  the  physical  .system.  Can  pain  exist  without  our  being 
conscious  of  it?     All  the  physical  phenomena  may  exist  in 


WILL   AND    MORALS.  89 

the  band  when  the  nerve  connecting  it  with  the  brain  is 
severed  or  ])ar!ilyzed;  yet  as  the  proper  "I,"  or  jjerson  is 
bounded  and  limited  hy  consciousness,  if  there  be  p;iiu  it 
is  that  of  the  hand,  and  not  of  the  person;  or,  more  prop- 
erly speaking,  it.  is  hut  an  antecedent  part  of  what  would 
be  pain  if  it  were  not  for  the  separation  of  the  hand  from 
the  peison ;  so,  while  consciousness  is  susjiended,  as  in  a 
swoon  or  sound  sleep,  all  the  phenomena  of  thought  may 
oc(U)r  in  the  brain;  hut  tliese  ])li3'sical  tiiovements  are  only 
an  antecedent  part  of  thou;^ht  until  it  comes  to  conscious- 
ness. We  areentirely  unable  to  say  whetlier  there  be  men- 
tal phenomena  bnyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  as  this 
is  all  the  powei'  we  have  of  investigating  mind;  and  by  hy- 
])othesis  this  is  dojinant.  But  this  we  can  say,  that  if  there 
be  mental  phenomena  they  nre  but  a  part  of  the  thought 
of  the  person  and  aie  detached,  existing  "  on  their  own 
hook,"  as  some  |>liiioso])hers  say  men  are.  being  a  si)ark 
struck  oft'  from  Deity. 

CONCLUSIOX. 

89.  It  may  be  said  "  that  the  piiiiciple  of  the  foregoin"' 
"Work,  is  too  simple  to  apply  to  so  ])rot'ouii<l  an  oi))ect  as 
iniiiit.  It  does  not  look  re!isonal)le  that  the  mnltitari(.us 
mental  o|)erations,  the  sublime  and  religious  emotions,  the 
profound  reasonings,  and  the  teniler  and  gushing  attVctions 
should  all  conform  to  the  simple  law  of  causation,  or  of 
uniformity  of  conserpjent  with  a  similar  antecedent."  To 
thi->  it  may  be  said,  tlnit  truth  is  simpler  than  error  and 
falsehood.  A  thousand  f.ilse  representations  may  be  made 
of  a  single  occurreiice,  but  only  one  true  (»ne  False  ])hil- 
(.siipliy  is  always  more  complic;ded  thjin  that  which  is  true* 
and  not  nntrequenti}'  has  the  true  been  rejected,  in  the  ijro- 
giess  of  science,  an  account  of  its  simplicity.  Alchenriv  was 
believed  in,  and  pursued  by  tlie  learned,  for  long  centuries 
in  tlie  exi)eciation  of  finding  the  ijhilosopher's  stone,  and 
the  means  of  trarjsforming  the  baser  metals  into  goKl, 
Even  Lord  Bacon's  vast  and  penetrating  mind  did  not  es- 
cape the  general  contagion.  Yet  the  phantom  of  alchemy 
wjis  much  more  complex  than  the  true  science  of  chemistiv 
whiili  reduces  the  mtiou  and  <-ondiination  of  chemical 
agents,  to  general  hiws,  wliicli  aie  ascertained  by  experi- 
uient.  Astrology,  which  pervaded  antiquity,  through  its 
6 


90  WILL    AND    MOUALS. 

moat  scioiilific  periods,  remnants  of  vviiich  are  still  discerni- 
ble in  the  })<)i)tilar  superstitions,  was  vastly  more  compli- 
cated tlian  astronomy,  its  s(;ientific  successor.  This  explains 
the  vast,  beautiful,  and  compli(!ated  movements  of  the  en- 
tire planetary  system,  by  a  sim|)le  law  which  every  clown 
understands.  Monotheistic  Christianity  is  more  simple 
than  polytheistic  idolatry.  Much  scientific  research  has 
proved  fruitless  ou  account  of  overlooking  the  simplicity  of 
truth  and  nature. 

40.  It  may  be  said,  "  tlie  foregoing  theory  reduces  man 
to  a  level  with  the  brute."  In  answer  it  may  be  asked.  Of 
what  faculties  does  it  dejDrive  man  ?  Does  it  not  leave  him 
all  his  sublime  moral,  religious,  and  beautiful  emotions, 
and  his  God-like  reason  ?  Do  not  these,  together  with  the 
greater  perfection  of  all  his  faculties,  sufficient^  distinguish 
him  from  lower  animals?  It  leaves  him  as  it  finds  him.  It 
deprives  him  of  no  faculty  or  destiny,  to  which  he  was  be- 
fore entitled. 

41.  Ayaiu  it  may  be  said  that  "  the  foregoing  theory 
makes  man  a  mere  machine,  depriving  him  of  the  {)ower  of 
acting  only  as  he  is  caused  to  act."  True  an  attempt  has 
been  made  to  detect  a  resemblance  in  this,  that  while  one 
is  a  thing  of  law,  the  other  is  not  a  being  of  blind,  chaotic 
chance.  But  it  is  thought  that  no  great  acumen  isrequii'ed 
to  discern  a  distinction  in  the  noble  powers  of  thought,  de- 
liberation, choice,  affection,  and  in  some  measure  of  self- 
action,  as  a  part  of  motive  is  himself.  True  we  think,  in  a 
certain  sense,  he  has  not  the  power  of  acting  differently  from 
his  pleasure  or  choice,  until  his  pleasure  or  choice  are 
changed,  but  can  this  be  a  hardship  ? 

42.  Again  it  maj'  be  said  that  "  it  destroys  the  morality, 
tightness  or  wrongness,  of  couductand  character."  I  an- 
swer, by  no  means.  We  may  differ  slightl}'  as  to  the  pre- 
cise meaning  of  these  terms;  and  still  more  as  to  the  treat- 
ment of  those  to  whom  they  apply.  But  our  vision  is  too 
obtuse  to  see  why,  on  that  account,  you  have  a  better  right 
to  say  wt'  destroy  them,  than  tee  have  to  say  you  destroy 
them.  Moral  wrong  or  blamableuess,  is  a  term  which  is 
used  to  designate  or  describe  one  wlio  is  deficient  in  moral 
faculties,  as  evidenced  by  his  conduct.  When  a  man  will 
pusillanimously  fly  from  the  least  threatening  of  danger, 
we  say  he  is  a  coward.  When  a  person  exhibits  great  at- 
tachment and  tenderness  towards  his  wife  and  children,  we 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  91 

SSLJ  lie  is  aff'ec'tiouate  So  of  otlier  qualities.  And  when  a 
man  is  disliouest  in  bis  dealings,  we  estimate  liiin  as  an  im- 
moral man.  We  regard  bim  with  a  kind  of  disgust,  be- 
cause tbis  deficiency,  more  tbau  any  otber,  renders  bim 
dangerous  to  society.  But  we  ougbt  to  suppress  tbis  feel- 
ing, if  by  so  doing  we  can  supply  tbe  defect  Our  treat- 
ment ougbt  to  be  that  wbicli  will  best  restore  tlie  deficient 
facult\'. 

43.  Again  it  may  be  said,  "  Reason  as  much  as  you  will, 
I  sball  believe  I  am  a  free  agent."  I  answer,  no  one  has 
disputed  tbis,  or  wisbes  to  dispute  it.  Tbe  question  is  not 
wbetber  i/ou  are  free,  but  wbetber  your  iviU  is  free  from  tbe 
otber  part  of  yourself,  or  tbe  person.  Writers  agree  tbat 
all  tbe  processes  of  tbe  vital  economy  of  tbe  buman  .system, 
botb  physical  and  mental,  e.Kcept  tbat  of  volition,  are  con- 
formed to  an<l  governed  by  tbe  law  of  causation.  But  with 
regard  to  tbe  latter  important  mental  ojieration,  there  has 
ever  been  great  diversity  of  opinion.  Whatever  the  truth 
may  ultimately  appear  to  be,  a  sincere  and  somewliat  pa- 
tient eflbrt  has  been  made  to  ascerlain  tbe  truth  in  this  mat- 
ter, by  investigating  on  tbe  principle  of  observatiiju  and  in- 
duction. Tbe  writer  was  educated  in  tbe  doctrine  of  free- 
domists,  which  was  at  first  cherished.  But  ere  the  close  of 
the  course  of  lectures,  he  saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  that 
they  did  not  analyze  to  ultimates;  or  produce  sound  argu- 
ments to  sustain  their  position.  Years  intervened  before 
tbe  subject  a|)peared  in  tbe  light  presented  in  the  foregoing 
work.  And  (if  so  much  of  personality  may  be  excused)  it 
has  l)een  p/repared  under  very  unfavorable  circumstances. 
Metaphysical  treatises  have  generally  been  written  bv  those 
who  have  taught  mental  philosophy  for  years  in  a  colleo-e 
or  higher  seminary.  Without  sucli  an  advantage,  this  has 
been  written  while  tbe  author  was  borne  down  bv  disease 
and  debility,  and  struggling  to  become  established  in  an 
arduous  [)rof(;ssion,  in  which  be  bad  had  no  pi-evious  ex- 
perience. This  is  not  said  to  excuse  errors  in  doctrine.  If 
the  2->'"i"c?7>/<^s  are  false  no  indulgence  is  craved  or  expected; 
if  the  inodt'  of  Ihcir  presiuildtioii  is  not  as  perfect  as  it  might 
have  been,  a  generous  public  will  do  what  is  generous. 

44.  The  writer  intended  to  present  an  extended  exam- 
ination and  comparison  of  the  writings  of  John  Locke 
and  Cousin,  who  have  respectively  stood  at  the  bead  of 
English  and  French  metaphysicians.      But  protracted  ill- 


92  WII.I,    AND    MORALS. 

Ik'hKIi  i)ut  it  beyond  his  power  to  do  so  in  time  for  tbis 
editioD. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PHRENOLOGY    AND    FREE    WILL. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place,  to  make  a  few  observations 
resi)ectin<f  tlie  relations  of  the  forej^oing  doctrine  of  tbe 
will,  to  the  popular  and  wide-spreading  system  of  phre- 
nology. The  essential  propositions  of  phrenology  are,  that 
the  brain  is  the  organ  of  the  mind — that  the  ))ower  and 
liind  of  mental  manifestation  de|)end  on  its  developments — 
that  each  kind  of  mentality,  as  thought,  emotion,  and  affec- 
tion, has  a  particular  origan,  in  a  particular  part  of  the 
brain — that  the  relative  strength  of  these  mental  faculties 
depends  on  the  size  and  activity  of  their  respective  organs — 
that  character  and  conduct  depend  on  these  latter,  and 
tliat  a  practiced  and  skillful  phrenologist  can  ascertain  these 
with  an  accuracy  sufficient  for  practical  purposes,  by  pass- 
ing the  hands  over  the  cranium.  It  must  be  obvious  to 
every  one,  that  the  action  of  these  several  organs,  and  the 
external  objects  that  excite  them,  constitute  what  metaphy- 
sicians term  the  motive  or  antecedent  to  volition.  It  is 
readily  admitted  that  if  volition  is  not  caused,  the  relative 
strength  of  these  several  faculties  may  be  ascertained 
phrenologically,  without  contradicting  anything  heretofore 
advanced.  President  Mahan,  who  is  an  unswerving  de- 
fender of  uncaused  volition,  uses  the  following  language: 
"Now,  it  is  universally  admitted  by  philosophers  of  all 
schools,  that  in  resi)ect  to  all  states  and  acts  of  the  physical 
system,  and  also  in  respe(;t  to  all  mental  states,  intentions 
excepted,  in  respect  to  all  states  of  the  sensibility  and  in- 
telligence, for  example,  man  is  wholh'  subject  to  the  law  of 
necessity'.  In  res{)ect  to  intentions  [volitions]  is  he  free" 
(from  causation).  But  with  respect  to  volitions,  physical 
actions,  and  all  those  mental  states,  such  as  h.abitual  charac- 
ter and  conduct,  which  are  dependent  on  volition,  no  judg- 
ment can  be  made,  if  volitions  are  absolutely'  contingent, 
and  uncaused  by  these  antecedent  developments  of  thought 


WILL    AND    MORALS.  93 

and  feeling.  It  is  only  on  the  Lj'potbesis  of  an  unvarying 
connection  between  tbe  external  develojiments  of  tlie  cra- 
nium, and  volition,  tliat  by  examining  the  former,  the  lat- 
ter, or  anytliiijg  dei>endent  on  it,  can  be  ascertained.  Now 
if  this  connection,  which  constitutes  the  causation  of  voli- 
tion, does  not  exist,  the  sphere  of  plirenology  must  be 
narrowed  so  as  to  destroy  its  utility,  if  not  its  existence 
as  a  science. 

It  is  sometimes  objected,  both  to  phrenology  and  to  the 
doctrine  of  caused  volition,  "that  frequently  there  is  a  sud- 
den change  of  general  volitions,  of  ciiaracter  from  bad  to 
good,  and  the  reverse."  True,  but  these  changes  are  so 
unfrequent  as  to  be  exceptions  to  the  general  rule,  that 
men  will  in  the  future  exhibit  the  characteristics  which  they 
have  done  in  the  past.  Such  is  the  prevalence  of  this  rule, 
that  all  prudent  men  readily  trust  the  good  man  in  various 
ways,  and  refuse  to  trust  the  bad  one.  And  generally  there 
is  a  full  and  apparent  cause  for  this  chiinge,  in  the  external 
relations  and  circumstances  of  the  reformed  person;  and 
where  there  is  no  such  appareid  cause,  it  is  by  no  means 
conclusive  that  one  does  not  exist,  in  some  unknown  cir- 
cumstances, or  the  internal  working  of  his  own  mind.  For 
exaniple,  an  Irishman  is  in  the  habit  of  drinking  to  beastly 
inebriation,  whenever  he  can  get  sufficient  whisky  to  pro- 
duce it.  But  suddenh'  he  becomes  temperate,  and  remains 
so,  through  the  most  trying  temptations.  But  the  auspi- 
cious change  is  fully  accounted  for  by  the  fact,  that  Father 
Mathew,  by  the  charming  spell  of  his  reputation,  elo- 
quence, and  goodness,  induced  him  to  take  the  pleilge  of 
total  abstinence.  If  any  such  cause  exists,  tlie  objection  is 
answei'ed;  but  if  a  case  is  jjointed  out  where  no  such  exists, 
apparent  or  latent,  the  objection  is  valid. 


->'^:^^:t7<^ 


Scientific  Indications  of 
Progression, 


Delivered  in  Congress  Hall,  San  Francisco,  and  Published  in  1867. 


Your  attention  is  invited  to  a  consideration  of  the  uni- 
versal law  and  fact  of  progression.  By  progression  is  meant 
the  continual  passing  of  all  forms  of  matter  and  being  from 
tbat  which,  reliitive  to  our  finite  minds,  is  cruder  and 
lower,  to  the  refined  and  higlier — from  the  more  simple  to 
the  more  complex.  It  may  be  well  to  note  some  of  the 
salient  points  in  the  unwritten  history  of  nature's  out- 
growtli,  which  indicate  the  past  action  of  this  universal  law, 
unlimitated  by  time,  unbounded  by  space,  and  which  there- 
fore includes  humanity  as  an  integral  portion. 

There  are  people  of  sharp  powers  of  observation,  who, 
looking  at  past  historic  periods  with  that  enchantment 
which  distance  lends  to  the  view,  and  seeing  here  and  there 
the  decadence  of  families,  tribes,  and  nations,  feeling  the 
wide  distance  between  the  ideal  and  the  actual  standard  of 
moral  attainment,  and  seeing  the  prevalence  of  want  and 
misery,  vice  and  venality,  really  believe  that  man  is  retro- 
grading. 

Humanity's  progression  may  be  compared  to  a  mighty 
river,  swollen  by  the  rains  or  melting  snows,  as  it  rolls  on 
its  resistless  current  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea.  Here 
and  there  a  rock,  a  headland,  or  a  curve  will  form  an  edd}', 
causing  the  drift-wood  to  float  swiftly  in  a  counter-current 
toward  the  mountains.  A  short-sighted  person,  of  dog- 
matic mind,  standing  on  the  bank,  would  positively  declare 
that  the  course  of  the  stream  was  toward  the  mountains; 


PROGRESSION.  95 

but  could  his  sight  be  extended,  iind  the  range  of  his  vision 
complete,  his  misapprehensiou  wouhl  be  corrected. 

Should  any  one  who  has  thoroughly  grasi)ed  tlie  great 
law  of  progression  despair,  deRi)ond,  or  even  doubt  the 
future  of  humanity,  either  in  this  or  spirit  life,  it  may  be 
accepted  as  a  sure  evidence  of  an  aggravated  dyspepsia.  It 
it  an  exaggeration  to  say  that,  save  our  own  existence,  this 
principle  is  the  most  precious  boon  that  the  past  has  be- 
queathed to  humanity'?  It  serves  to  keep  up  a  buoyant 
spirit,  a  lively  hope,  an  abiding  confidence,  on  which  the 
soul  can  sweetl_v  repose  when  the  foam-ca))j)ed  billows 
of  adversity  are  dashing  around,  and  our  immediate  exter- 
nal environments  would  otherwise  overwhelm  us  with 
despair. 

The  subject  divides  itself  into  three  parts: 

I.  Indications  of  ])rogress  from  Astronomy. 
II.   Indications  of  progress  from  Geology. 
III.  Indications  of  progress  from  Human  History. 

1.  Indications  from  Astronomy. 

We  may  include  in  this  all  that  can  be  gathered  in  the 
progress  of  matter  from  its  diti'nsed,  nebulous,  vapory  con- 
dition, until  it  becomes  segregated  and  assumes  the  globu- 
lai  form,  with  a  central  sun,  revolving  [jlanets,  and  attend- 
ant satellites. 

The  first  question  that  confronts  us  is,  are  these  masses 
of  matter,  which  sparkle  so  beautifully  in  the  depths  of 
space,  composed  essentially  of  tlie  same  materials,  and  con- 
trolled by  tlie  same  law  o'  gravitation  as  our  own  planet? 
Fortunately  the  more  recent  attainments  of  astronomical 
science  have  answered  both  of  these  questions  in  the  atlirm- 
ative.  By  the  aid  of  tlie  solar  spectrum  and  spectroscope, 
rays  of  light  are  analyzed  and  examined,  and  the  constitu- 
ent elements  of  the  body  emitting  them  determined.  It  is 
thus  known  that  our  sun  contains  iron,  soilium,  potassium, 
and  other  elements;  and  it  is  thus  determined  that  the 
bright  star  .Vreturus  has  constituent  elements  almost  iden- 
tical with  our  sun.  And  all  stars  indicate  some  of  the  ele- 
ments common  to  our  own  globe.  Thus  the  winged  mes- 
sengers— the  rays  of  liglit  from  a  twinkling  star — Hying 
across  the  abyss  of  space  at  the  rate  of  200, UOU  miles  in 
a  second,  a  rate    that    would  leave  the   messages   on    our 


9(!  PROGRESSION. 

tele{,'i;i))li  liiu^s  laifpfiiifif  Jit  a  siiiiil'H  puce,  after  goin;^  for 
tlioiisands — miv,  tens  of  tlioiiHaiids  of  years,  come  to  us  la- 
den with  the  intelliu'eiice  tliat  the  ^(htbes  sj)!irklinj^  in  infi- 
nite space,  are  linked  to  the  great  wliole  by  identity  of 
constituent  elements. 

2d.  Does  the  same  ])rincip]e  of  gravitation  which  holds 
each  particle  of  matter  in  its  place  on  our  earth,  and  the 
earth,  in  its  annual  sweej)  around  the  sun,  also  ol)taia 
among  the  countless  stars  that  glitter  in  the  enipyreau 
depths  of  space  ?  We  are  indebted  for  the  affiimative  an- 
swer to  this  question  to  that  vaiiety  in  unity,  wdiicrh  in  the 
minor  unfoldments  (jf  nature  aiibrds  such  pleasing  gratifica- 
tion to  the  esthetic  taste. 

All  star  systems  are  not,  like  ours,  composed  of  a  central 
sun,  and  surrounding  planets  revolving  in  concentric  or- 
bits. If  it  were  so,  we  should  have  no  evidence  of  the  con- 
tinued operation  of  the  law  of  gravitation  beyond  our  sys- 
tem; for  such  is  the  immense  distance  of  these  sparkling 
orbs  that  even  with  the  jiid  of  the  most  powerful  telescope 
yet  in  use,  we  are  unable  to  discern  the  ])lanets  of  any  sys 
teni.  Their  existence  is  merged  in  that  of  their  parent  sun, 
and  a  single  orb  is  all  that  can  be  seen.  But  Sir  William 
Herschel  discovered  that  a  considerable  proportion  of  the 
tixed  stars  scattered  through  sjjace  are  systems  of  two,  of 
three,  and  sometimes  more  stars,  revolving  around  a  com- 
mon center,  thus  demonstrating  the  universal  prevalence  of 
the  law  of  gravitation.  It  is  a  noteworthy  circumstance,  that 
the  latest  discoveries  of  modern  science  should  confirm — 
what  the  intuitional,  mediumistic  mind  of  Pope  perceived 
200  years  ago,  when  he  wrote — 

"All  are  but  parts  of  fnie  stupendous  wliole. 
Whose  boily  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

When  Lord  Rosse's  large  telescope  swept  athwart  the 
heavens,  and  resolved  nebulous  appearances,  one  after  an- 
other, into  clusters  of  stars,  there  was  great  exultation 
among  tlie  opponents  of  the  nebular  hypothesis.  They  per- 
sistently claimed  that  those  nebular  masses  which  appeared, 
through  the  instrument,  like  clouds  lioating  on  the  dark 
background  of  the  sky,  only  required  a  more  powerful  tele- 
scope to  be  resolved  likewise  into  star  clusters.  But  their 
triumph,  like  that  of  the  wicked  in  general,  was  short;  for 
Huggins,  by  an  application  of  the  prism  and   spectroscope 


PROGrESSION.  97 

to  the  li^lit  emitted  L3'  these  nebuloe,  has  demonstrated 
them  to  be  not  globes,  but  masses  of  cosmical  vapor.  How 
grand  tlie  thought  that  the  Milky  Way,  whose  diameter 
rays  of  light  would  be  1,000  years  in  traversing,  going  at 
the  rate  of  twelve  millions  of  miles  in  a  minute,  is  but  an 
aggregation  of  globes  thrown  oft"  from  a  revolving  mass  of 
primordial  matter,  like  sjjray  from  a  revolving  grindstone. 
I  will  present  the  nebular  theory  in  the  language  of  one 
of  or.r  distinguished  astronomers,  to  whose  learning  and 
energy  we  are  indebted  for  the  Cincinmiti  Observatory,  and 
who  lost  his  life  nobly  battling  for  his  country  in  the- hour 
ofherpeiil.  "  Laplace,  following  up  the  siieculations  of 
Sir  AVni.  Herschel,  applied  the  theory  of  that  astronomer 
to  the  formation  of  the  solar  system,  comprehending  the 
comets  as  well  as  the  planets  and  their  satellites.  The 
theory  supi)oses  the  original  chaotic  condition  of  the  njatter 
of  all  suns  and  worlds  was  nebulous,  like  the  matter  com- 
posing the  tails  of  comets.  Under  the  laws  of  gravitation, 
this  nebulous  lliiid,  scattered  throughout  all  space,  com- 
mences to  condense  towards  certain  centers.  The  particles 
moving  towards  these  central  points  not  meeting  with  ecpial 
velocities,  and  in  opposite  directions,  a  motion  of  rotation 
is  generated  in  the  entire  fluid  mass,  which  in  tigure  ap- 
proximates the  si)iierical  form.  The  spherical  tigure  once 
formed,  and  rotation  commenced,  it  is  not  difficult  to  con- 
ceive how  a  system  of  planets  might  be  produced  from  the 
rot«ating  mass,  corresponding  in  nearly  all  resjK'cts  to  the 
characteristics  which  distinguish  the  planets  belonging  to 
our  own  system.  If  l)y  radiation  of  heat  this  nebulous 
mass  should  gradually  contract  in  size,  then  a  well-known 
law  of  rotating  bodies  would  insure  an  increased  velocity  of 
rotation.  This  might  continue  until  the  centrifugal  force, 
which  increases  rapidly  with  the  velocity  of  the  revolving 
body,  would  finally  (;ome  to  be  superi(n-  to  the  force  of 
gravity  at  the  equator,  and  from  this  region  a  belt  oi  neb- 
ulous fluid  wouhl  thus  be  detached,  in  the  form  of  a  ring, 
wlii('h  would  be  left  in  space  by  the  shrinking  awiiy  of  I  lie 
central  globe.  The  ring  thus  left  wt)uld  generally  coalesce 
into  the  globular  form,  and  thus  would  present  a  i)lanet 
with  an  orliit  nearly,  if  not  quite,  circular,  lying  in  a  plane 
nearly  coincident  with  the  plane  of  the  e(pialor  of  the  cen- 
tral b()d\-,  and  revolving  in  its  orbit  in  the  same  direction 
in  which  the  central  globe  rotates  on  its  axis. 


9S  PROGRESSION. 

"As  the  f,'lol)e  gmdually  contructs,  its  velocity  of  rotation 
continimlly  increasing',  another  ring  of  matter  may  be 
thrown  off,  and  another  planet  formed,  and  so  on,  until  the 
cohesion  of  tlie  particles  of  the  central  mass  may  finally  be 
able  to  resist  any  further  change,  and  the  process  ceases. 
The  ])lanetary  masses,  while  in  the  act  of  cooling  and  con- 
densing, niu}'  produce  satellites  in  the  same  manner,  and  by 
the  operation  of  the  same  laws  b}'  which  they  were  them- 
selves formed.  There  are  many  facts  which  tend  strongly 
to  give  this  theory  more  than  probability.  It  accounts  for 
all  the  great  features  of  the  solar  system,  which  in  its  or- 
ganization presents  the  most  induVntable  evidence  that  it 
has  resulted  from  the  operation  of  some  gi'eat  law.  The 
sun  rotates  on  an  axis  in  tlie  same  direction  in  which  the 
planets  revolve  in  their  orl)its;  the  planets  all  rotate  on  their 
axis  in  the  same  direction;  they  circulate  around  the  sun, 
in  orbits  nearly  circular,  in  the  same  direction,  and  planes 
nearly  coincident  with  the  plane  of  the  sun's  equator.  The 
satellites  of  all  the  planets,  with  one  exception,  revolve  in  or- 
bits nearly  circular,  but  little  inclined  to  the  equator  of 
their  primaries,  and  in  the  same  direction  as  the  planets.  So 
far  as  their  rotation  on  an  axis  has  been  ascertained,  they  fol- 
low the  general  law.  In  one  instance  alone  we  find  the 
rings  of  matter  have  solidified  in  cooling,  without  breaking 
up  or  becoming  glol)ular  bodies.  TLiis  is  found  in  the  rings 
of  Saturn,  which  i)resent  the  very  characteristics  which 
would  flow  from  their  formation,  according  to  the  preced- 
ing theory.  They  are  flat  and  thin,  and  revolve  on  an  axis 
nearly,  if  not  exactly,  coincident  with  that  of  their  planet. 
Their  stability  is  guaranteed  by  conditions  of  wonderful 
complexity  and  delicacy,  and  the  adjustment  of  the  rings  to 
the  planet  (humanly  speaking)  would  seem  to  be  impossi- 
ble after  the  formation  of  the  planet.  At  least  it  is  beyond 
our  power  to  conceive  how  this  could  be  accomplished  by 
any  law  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge.  *  *  Grant- 
ing the  formation  of  a  single  sun  by  the  nebular  theor}',  and 
we  account  at  once  for  the  formation  of  all  other  suds  and 
systems  throughout  all  space;  and  according  to  this  theory, 
the  comets  have  their  origin  in  nebulous  nnitter,  occupying 
positions  intermediate  between  two  or  more  great  centers, 
and  held  nearly  in  eqiiilibrio,  until  tinally  the  attraction  of 
some  one  center  predominates,  and  this  uncondensed,  lilmy 
mass  commences  slowly  to  descend  toward  its  controlling 


PROGRESSION.  9JI 

orb.  This  tbeoiy  would  seem  to  be  sustained — so  far  as  a 
single  tr'Jtli  can  sustain  any  theory — by  the  fact  that  the 
comets  come  into  our  system  from  all  possible  directions, 
and  pursue  their  couises  around  the  sun,  either  in  accord- 
ance with,  or  o])posed  to,  the  direction  in  which  the  plan- 
ets circulate.  Tlieir  uncondensed  or  nel)u]ous  ct)nditiou 
results  from  the  feeble  central  attraction  which  must  neces- 
sarily exist  in  bodies  composed  of  such  small  quantities  of 
matter.  Moreover,  iti  some  cases  at  least,  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  in  their  passage  around  the  sun  they  are  en- 
tirely dissipated  into  vapor,  and  may  thus  revolve  for  ages, 
going  through  alternations  of  solidificatiou  and  evapora- 
tions." Such  is  a  brief  statement  of  the  theory  that  some 
of  our  first  astronomers  declare  moi-e  tJian  pvubahle. 

It  is  probable  that  the  ])heiiomena  of  meteoric  showers, 
occasionally  ai)pearing  about  the  thirteenth  of  November, 
and  ai>pareiitly  radiating  from  a  common  center,  are  caused 
b}'  a  small  incipient  i)laiiet  of  nebulous  matter  impinging  on 
pur  atmosphere,  and  jjortions  becoming  ignited  by  atmos- 
pheric friction,  as  sparks  fly  from  steel  in  contact  with  re- 
volving emery.  Another  analogous  supposition  is  that  it 
is  caused  by  the  minute  asteroids,  the  fragments  of  an  ex- 
j)loded  planet,  once  between  Mars  and  Jupiter.  Through 
what  changes  or  retining  processes  this  cosmical  vapor  has 
passed,  in  the  boundless  depths  of  anterior  eternity,  is 
probably  beyond  profitable  conjecture.  But  it  appears, 
with  all  the  force  of  a  corollary,  that  as  the  acorn  contains 
in  embryonic  potentiality  all  the  qualities  of  the  full  grown 
oak — that  is,  the  power  to  evolve  in  connection  with  favora- 
ble conditions  of  soil  and  atmos|ihere — so  this  nebulous 
matter  contains  potentially  all  the  beautiful  forms  unfolded 
by  a  mature  globe,  with  all  its  flora,  its  fauna,  and  the  hu- 
man soul  its  crowning  ultimate. 

There  remains  to  examine  one  class  of  phenomena  whieli 
have  appeared  as  landmarks,  or  at  least  hints  and  iinlica- 
tious  of  the  vast,  changes  tiiat  have  taken  place  along  down 
the  stream  of  time.  I  refer  to  the  appearance  of  new  stars 
in  the  vacant  ]>ortions  of  space  and  the  permanent  disap- 
pearance of  old  ones.  More  than  two  thousand  years  ago 
the  Greek  astronomer,  Hii)parchus,  who  naujed  and  num- 
bei'ed  over  one  thousand  stars,  was  astonislied  to  find  a 
brilliant  star  burst  ui)on  his  view  at  a  point  in  the  heavens 
wliere  none  had  existed  before.     But  as  scientific  observa- 


100  PnOORESSlON. 

tion  has  l)ooii  inoro  full  in  mo'lfiii  tiin^s,  cases  of  tliis  Iviiid 
are  ficqnent,  well  inaiked,  and  estahlislied  lieyond  a  donl)t. 

Another  class  of  plienoniena  will  be  best  dencribcd  by  the 
folluwiu<>'  case:  In  lo7*2  a  new  star  of  pi  eat  splendor  ap- 
peareil  suddenly  in  the  constellation  Cassiopeia,  occupying 
a  position  wliicli  had  previously  been  blank.  This  extraor- 
dinary appeararice  so  excited  the  interest  of  Tycho  Brahe, 
the  Danish  astronomer,  that  he  gave  it  his  most  unremit- 
ting attention.  Its  mngnitude  increased  until  it  surpassed 
Jupiter  in  splendor  arid  tinally  l)ecarae  visible  in  the  day- 
time. It  rt-tained  its  greatest  magnitude  only  a  ver}'  short 
tinje,  wlien  it  commenced  to  decline  in  brilliancy,  changing 
from  wjjite  to  yellow,  then  to  reddish,  and  finally  it  Itecame 
faintly  blue;  and  so  diminishing  by  degrees  it  vanished 
from  sight  and  has  never  since  been  seen. 

While  new  and  brilliant  stars  have  occasionally  appeared 
to  astonish,  ])erchance  to  instruct  n)aiikind,  there  are  many 
well-authenticated  cases  of  the  entire  disappearance  of  old 
ones  whose  places  had  been  fixed  with  undoubted  certainty. 
In  KiDO  Sir  \Vm.  Herschel  observed  Star  No.  55  in  the  con- 
stellation Hercules,  but  since  that  time  no  search  has  been 
able  to  detect  it.  The  star  is  gone  and  its  place  remains  a 
blank.  Stars  80  and  81,  both  of  the  fourth  magnitude  in 
the  same  constellation,  have  likewise  disappeai^ed.  Exam- 
ples might  be  multiplied,  but  it  is  unnecessary  to  my  pur- 
})ose.  I  will  present  one  other  recent  case,  together  with  the 
light  which  late  scientific  discoveries  have  thrown  ujion  it, 
before  offering  a  few  suggestions  ujion  these  scientific  facts, 
which  will  close  the  first  division  of  this  essay. 

In  the  month  of  May,  180(i,  the  astronomers  of  various 
observatories  in  Europe  and  America  were  astonished  at 
beholding  a  star  in  the  constellation  of  the  Northern  Crown 
rai)idiy  increase  in  size  and  brilliancy,  passing  in  two  weeks 
from  the  eighth  to  the  second  magnitude.  Having  attained 
its  nuiximum,  its  decrease  was  nearly  as  rapid  as  had  been 
its  increase.  It  was  ascertained  beyond  doubt  by  observa- 
tions upon  its  spectrum  that  the  star  was  actually'  wrapped 
in  flames.  Confirmatory  results  were  obtained  at  the  Royal 
Observatory  of  Greenwich,  the  Imperial  Observatory  of 
Paris,  and  several  others. 

A  full  account  of  this  remarkable  occurrence  can  be  found 
in  the  October  number  of  the  Ed^'clic  Marjazine,  in  an  arti- 
cle entitled,  "A  Star  on  Fire." 


PROGRESSION.  101 

We  find  that  nature  in  her  ceaseless  efforts  towards 
hi^dier  forms  is  very  prolific  of  new  births.  In  the  ve<i;-e- 
table  world  there  are  vastly  more  blossoms  tlion  ever  attain 
to  mature  fruit.  As  we  ascend  to  the  animal  kinj^dom  we 
find  the  efforts  of  nature  towards  reproduction  are  still 
more  prolific.  Should  each  embryonic  spawn  become  a 
mature  fish,  the  rivers,  lakes,  and  ocean  borders  woidd 
become  crowded  to  repletion.  Even  in  the  hij^her  types  oi 
heii\{j::,  with  all  the  care  that  affection  can  bestow,  jiided  by 
the  light  of  experience  and  science,  a  considerable  pait  f)f 
humanity  shufHe  of  the  mortal  coil  in  infancy  and  chil  1- 
booil.  Is  it,  not  fair  to  extend  this  analog}'  to  the  birth  of 
worlds? — for  the  infinite  aii'l  the  infinitesimal  aie  subjects 
of  the  sanje  law.  May  we  not  suppose  that  in  the  forma- 
tion of  a  world,  owing  to  some  detect  in  its  organization  or 
the  presence  of  explosive  gases  in  its  central  cavity,  before 
the  crust  is  sufficiently  hardened  to  insure  permanence,  the 
internal  molten  mass  buists  forth,  presenting  to  the  as- 
tronomer tlie  awfully  grand  and  sublime  spectacle  of  a  star 
S3"stem,  perh.-ips  much  laiger  than  our  own,  with  its  planets 
and  at tendant.  satellites,  enveloped  in  the  flames  of  chem- 
ical decomposition,  dissi|i;iting  its  substance,  again  to  l)e 
min;^led  with  cosmical  nebulie,  and  thus  wait  for  the  prog- 
ress of  lime  to  produce  a  morn  auspicious  effort.  As  was 
beautifully  expressed  two  hundred  years  ago: 

"  Who  sees  witii  equal  eye  as  (]0<1  of  all, 
A  hero  peiisli  oi-  a  .s[)aiiow  fall  — 
Atoms  or  systems  into  ruin  liurled, 
Ami  now  a  ijuiiMc  hursts,  and  now  a  woild." 

That  which  was  good  poetry  then,  is  an  establislicd  truth 
of  science  to-day. 

Let  us  considerfor  a  moment  tho-ic  worlds  that  l)ave  Ironi 
time  to  time  astonished  astronomers  by  their  appearance  in 
the  vacant  fields  of  spacte. 

We  find  in  nature's  unroldtncnts  exceptional  oiscs  of 
growth  I  have  this  autumn  seen  iipple  trees  in  fidl  beuiing 
of  ex(;ellent  fruit,  witli  here  and  tliereu  blossom,  and  others 
with  small  apples  of  the  second  growth.  So,  may  not  ilie 
waste  s(;raps  of  cosmical  vapor,  left  from  the  first  gr.-wth  of 
worlds,  have  a  rotary  motion,  generated  by  causes  which  we 
call  accidental,  which  shall  go  on  increasing  in  extent  and 
23ower   until  a  new  woild   is   born   into   the  great  lamily   of 


102  PROGUESSION. 

orl)H?  Nny,  more:  Ah  tlie  junii)  of  ji  stjuinol  in  a  snow- 
clad  mountain  will  somctinics  start  a  jiollet  of  snow,  which, 
as  it  rolls  down  tlio  mount.-iin  side,  increases  in  a  geometri- 
cal ratio,  until  a  mighty  avalanche  is  j)recipitated  into  the 
vallej'  below;  so  may  not  an  angelic  circle  direct  a  shaft  of 
magnetism  upon  some  portion  of  a  field  of  nebulous  matter, 
thus  generating  a  rotary  motion  that  shall  go  on  until  a  sun 
is  launclied  into  being,  witli  all  its  })lanets  revolving  around 
it;  which  time  shall  peoj)le  with  a  ra(;e  of  beings  more  moral, 
more  healtldul,  more  harmoniovis  and  more  happ}-  than  the 
inhabitants  of  this  insignificant  ball  shall  attain  to  for  ages 
to  come? 

Should  these  suggestions apj^ear  wild  and  extravagant,  let 
them  not  detract  from  tlje  value  of  the  sterling  scientific 
facts  presented. 


•^:>^>^V?:7<^ 


THE 

Religion  of  Progression, 


As  the  matter  of  wiiicli  the  eartli  is  composed  became 
separated,  it  assumed  the  splielical  furjii,  and  it  has  been 
matheiuaticall}'  deuioustrated  that  it  has  the  sai)ie  form — be- 
ing flattened  at  the  poles  and  [)rotuberant  at  tlie  equator — 
that  a  molten  mass  would  assume,  when  revolving  at  the 
rate  that  the  earth  is  known  to  rotate  on  its  axis.  As  lias 
been  beautifully  expressed: 

"Tliat  very  law  whicli  moulds  a  tear, 
And  l)i(ls  it  trickle  from  its  source, 

Tliat  law  preserves  the  earth  a  sphere, 
And  f^uides  the  planets  in  their  course." 

The  molten  mass  radinted  its  heat  until  a  crust  of  rock 
was  foi'med  upon  its  surface;  radiation  still  went  on,  and  as 
the  internal  mass  shrunk,  the  external  crust  followed  it, 
throwing  up  mountain  ranges  like  ridges  on  a  baked  apple. 
These  ridges  were  subjected  to  the  contitiued  wear  of  the  ele- 
ments, which  may  have  been  more  active  at  that  early  i)eriod 
than  now,  and  the  valleys  jjartly  tilled  with  detritus  and 
sedimentary  deposits.  Thus  the  earth  was  slowly  ))repared 
for  the  lower  types  of  vegetable  and  aninnil  existences.  The 
record  of  the  gradual  evolution  of  animal  life  on  our  planet 
must  necessarily'  be  exceedingly  fragmentary,  leaving  almost 
every  position  open  to  ol)jection.  Two-thirds  of  the  earth's 
surface  is  covered  with  water;  but  a  small  portion  of  the 
laud  has  been  examined  by  the  geologist,  and  as  the  sur- 
face has  been  changed  by  successive  elevations  and  de- 
pressions, and  as  but  a  small   portion  of  animal  remains 


10-4  i'i;o(HiEssioN. 

were  fossilized,  and  sis  much  of  tlie  earlier  fossils  have  been 
worn  away  or  destroyed  by  tbe  heated  mass  within,  it  is 
evident  that  a  continuous  record  of  the  gradations  of  life 
can  never  be  had.  Yet  p;eo](><^y  has  furnished  us  with  suf- 
ficient facts  to  lead  the  comprehensive  mind  to  the  C(jnclu- 
sion  that  life  on  this  planet  has  proceeded  from  the  lower 
forms  or  types,  by  a  more  or  less  re^-'ular  gradation,  to  the 
hi;^her  iind  more  complex.  The  leadin|n;  facts,  that  in  the 
oldest  fossiliferous  rock  are  found  remains  of  invertebrates 
and  cephelopods — animals  like  the  cuttle-fish,  with  feet  at- 
tached to  the  head — and  that  man  is  the  last  of  the  series; 
that  of  the  mammalia,  the  marsuj)ial,  with  i)ouch  like  the 
opossum,  the  lowest  type  ai)peared  first;  while,  again,  man, 
the  highest  type  of  the  mammalia,  appeared  last,  all  ))Mint 
to  the  same  conclusion.  I  cannot  better  prove  and  il- 
lustrate this  position  than  to  quote  a  passage  from  Hugh 
Miller's  "Foot-Prints  of  the  Creator,"  and  it  will  have  all 
the  more  weight  with  some  minds  that  the  author  lived  and 
died,  or  at  least  became  insane,  in  the  orthodox  faith:  "It 
is  of  itself  an  extraordinary  fact,  that  the  order  adopted  by 
Cuvier,  in»his  Animal  Kingdom,  as  that  in  which  the  four 
great  classes  of  vertebrate  animals,  when  marshaled  ac- 
cording to  their  rank  and  standing,  naturally  range,  shcjuld 
be  also  that  in  which  they  occur  in  the  order  of  time.  The 
brain,  which  bears  an  average  proportion  to  the  spinal 
cord  of  not  more  than  two  to  one,  comes  first — it  is  the 
brain  of  the  fish;  that  which  bears  an  average  to  the  spinal 
cord  of  two  and  a  half  to  one,  succeeds  it — it  is  the  brain 
of  the  reptile;  then  came  the  brain  averaging  as  three  to 
one — it  is  that  of  the  bird;  next  in  succession  came  the 
brain  that  averages  as  four  to  one — it  is  that  of  the  animal; 
and  last  of  all  there  appeared  a  brain  that  averages  as 
twenty-three  to  one — reasoning,  calculating  man  had  come 
upon  the  scene."  The  same  doctrine  is  advanced  by  Agas- 
siz,  who  declares  that  "  within  the  limits  of  the  orders  of 
each  great  class,  there  is  a  coincidence  between  their  rank 
in  organization,  and  the  order  of  succession  of  their  rep- 
resentatives in  time." 

There  are  three  theories  of  the  manner  in  which  new 
species  of  life  have  been  introduced.  The  Darwinian 
thi-ory — that  each  species  has  been  produced  by  the  natural 
selection  and  union  of  the  more  favored  individuals  of  the 
next  lower  species.     2.  That  there  exist  in  nature  monads 


PE0GUES8I0N.  105 

or  fi^errn  cells  which,  under  favorable  conditions,  possess 
the  inherent  power  of  developing-  into  a  higher  s])ecies. 
3.  That  each  species  is  ])rodiiced  by  a  S|)ecial  act  of  cre- 
ation exerted  by  a  being  residing  outside  of  nature.  The 
advocates  of  the  latter  method  often  object  to  the  theory 
of  the  development  of  a  higher  from  the  next  lower  species 
that  there  are  no  facts  to  support  it;  forgetting  that  this 
view  would  involve  for  living  and  extinct  species,  both  ani- 
mal and  vegetable,  four  million  separate  acts  of  creation 
with  neither  reason  ma-  u  single  fact  to  support  it;  only  an 
Oriental  myth  to  which  no  intelligent  sectary  would  ven- 
ture to  give  a  literal  inter])retation — a  mytli  which  repre- 
sents that  God,  standing  outsitle  of  nature,  labored  indus- 
triously six  days  to  create  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  the 
ejirih,  and  the  progenitors  of  animals  to  inhabit  it;  became 
fatigued,  rested  on  tlie  seventh;  and  that  afterwards,  when 
man,  not  behaving  as  well  as  he  had  anticipated,  became 
derelict  in  his  morals,  repented  that  he  had  made  him  aiid 
yri'vrd  himxi'lf  U,  the.  h<^art. 

Having  thus  presented  a  synopsis  of  the  evidence  to  sub- 
stMutiate  the  gieat  fact  that  the  external  world  has  reached 
its  present  condition  by  an  ascending  series  of  growths,  so 
we  are  led  to  the  irresistible  conclusion  that  the  spiritual 
or  leligious  life  of  the  race,  which  is  but  an  outgrowth  or 
higher  unfoldiiig  of  the  physical,  is  subject  to  the  same  law; 
that  the  spiritual  and  religious  growth  of  Man — and  b}'  re- 
ligion is  meant  simply  a  knowledge  of  our  spirit  life  here 
and  liereafier,  coupled  with  a  practical  soul-culture — that 
the  spiritujil  growth  of  man  has  passed  with  him  through 
an  ascending  series  of  unfoldments  or  dispensations  as  he 
has  passed  from  the  saviige  to  the  civilized  condition;  that 
he  commenced  in  a  sinii)le,  intuitional  belief  in  a  future 
life,  witlnnit  knowledge,  and  at  each  new  religion  or  dis- 
])cnsation  some  error  is  discarded  and  some  truth  added; 
and  as  the  animal  series  has  terminated  and  culminated 
man  as  the  highest  ])Ossible  product  of  nature,  so  the  reli- 
gious has  at  length  terminated  in  spiritualism,  wliich  re- 
solves every  l>elief  into  knowledge-,  and  ever^'  sjiecial  ))rov- 
jdem-e,  every  condition  of  spirit  life,  into  fixed  law.  Spir- 
itualism is  not  a  sect,  but  a  new  religion;  and  according  to 
the  great  fact  and  law  of  piogression,  that  it  is  the  last 
vouchsiifed  to  man,  is  conclusive  that  it  is  the  best,  and 
that  it  refers  everything   to   fixed   law,  shows   that  it  must 


106  PKOOKESSION. 

termiimto  the  series,  for  no  uiifoldmeiit  can  f(o  bejond  tbis. 
Tbere  will  be  work  ejiouf,'b  for  future  a^'es  to  learu  and  ap- 
ply to  bumau  use  individual  laws,  but  tbe  ultimate  princi- 
ple is  attained. 

Tbis  ^'reat  fact  we  may  find  illustrated  by  nature's  pro- 
cesses in  tbe  growtb  of  tbe  individual.  Nature  kindly 
supplies  cbildljood  witb  a  temptnary  set  of  teetb  to  su)>ply 
tbe  needs  of  tbat  early  period;  but  bein<^  incapable  of  that^ 
expansion  necessary  to  adapt  tbeni  to  mature  growth,  sbe 
absorbs  awaj'  tbe  roots  to  give  place  to  the  germs  beneath 
to  furnisb  the  j)ermanent  dentition.  So  ever}'  system  of 
religion  anterior  to  spiritualism  ma}'  be  considered  as  a  pro- 
visional arrangement  to  meet  tbe  devotional  needs  of  tbe 
cliildbood  of  the  race,  and  likewise,  to  continue  tbe  analogy, 
as  they  are  incapable  of  tbat  expansion  necessary  to  adapt 
them  to  tbe  maturity  of  tbe  race,  tbey  must  all  be  absorbed 
away  b}'  nature's  beautiful  process,  from  the  roots  upwards, 
to  give  ])lace  to  the  permanent  religion  of  spiritualism. 

The  physical  sciences  have  all  passed  through  the  same 
phases  of  belief  and  supposition,  and  at  length  terminated 
in  fixed  law.  In  the  dark  ages  supposititious  alchemy  was 
pursued  with  great  zeal.  Men  spent  their  lives  in  futile  ef- 
forts to  find  the  universal  solvent  and  methods  of  transmit- 
ting the  baser  to  the  more  valuable  metals;  but  these  strug- 
gles resulted  in  the  beautiful  and  mathematically  exact 
science  of  chemistry;  so  supposititious  and  fruitless  astrology 
culminated  in  the  beautiful  science  of  astronomy. 

Your  attention  is  invited  to  the  elucidation  of  these  views. 
All  barbarous  and  savage  |ieople  attribute  the  ordinary  occur- 
rences of  life  to  supernatural  agencies;  thus,  ordiuiiry  and 
extraordinary  diseases,  peace  and  war,  floods  and  droughts, 
the  abundance  or  scarcity  of  food,  are  all  attributed  to  the 
agency  of  their  good  or  bad  deities.  Gradually,  as  we  de- 
scend the  stream  of  time,  and  trace  the  slow  unfoldment  of 
man's  higher  intelligence,  we  find  the  supposed  sphere  of 
natural  law  to  widen,  and  the  sphere  of  tbe  supernatural  to 
diminish,  until  at  length,  in  the  full  blaze  of  tbe  scientific 
i:)rogress  of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  searching  and  com- 
prehensive intellect  of  the  great  savant,  Humboldt,  antici- 
]iated  the  position  that  has  been  popularized  by  spiritualism, 
when  he  wrote  in  his  Cosmos:  "  We  become  more  and  more 
convinced  that  the  forces  inherent  in  matter,  and  those 
which  govern  the  moral  world,  exercise  their  action  under 


PllOGHKSSION.  107 

the  control  of  primonliul  nocessit}'  or  fixed  law."  And  this 
is  the  true  measure  of  the  stage  of  advancement  of  any  age 
or  any  people;  the  extent  to  which  they  are  able  to  trace 
those  plienomena  outworking  in  their  own  being  and  sur- 
roundings, to  nature's  immutable  laws.  Hence  it  follows, 
speaking  in  general  terms,  the  religion  of  any  people  must 
bear  some  correspondence  to  their  intellectual  and  physical 
attainments.  And  that  it  is  practically'  impossible  to  en- 
graft the  religion  of  civilization  upon  savage  or  barbarous 
nations,  any  farther  than  they  are  elevated  by  a  simultane- 
ous introduction  of  the  arts,  the  sciences,  the  industries, 
and  the  education  of  that  civilization.  The  missionary  ef- 
forts of  near  two  centuries  have  resulted  in  little  good  but 
to  allbrd  a  striking  evidence  of  this  position.  The  assump- 
tion of  old  theology  is,  that  the  8crii)tures  contain  a  revela- 
tion direct  from  the  Supreme  Deity,  of  a  perfect  rule  of  re- 
ligious faith  and  practice;  from  this  it  follows  that  it  must 
eventually  be  accepted  l)y  all  j^eople.  Hence,  in  obedience 
to  the  command  of  their  Master,  to  "go  into  all  the  world 
and  preach  the  gospel  to  ever}'  creature,"  hundreds  of  i)ious 
men  and  women  have  gone;  some  with  heroic  devotion  and 
self-sacrifice,  others  with  sordid,  self-seeking,  to  carry  this 
universal  religion  to  the  savage  and  barbarous  nations  of 
the  earth.  The.'^eenteri)rises  have  been  liberally  supported  by 
the  stated  contributions  of  the  pious,  from  the  wealthy  metro- 
politan church  to  the  obscure  parish  of  the  rural  districts. 
But  the  results  have  never  been  adequate  to  the  efforts  put 
forth.  In  fact  it  has  been  a  magnificent  failure — all  state- 
ments in  the  monthly  concerts  of  i)rayer  for  the  heathen  to 
the  contrar}'  notwithstanding.  This  position  is  so  impor- 
tant, that  I  crave  your  indulgence  while  I  substantiate  it  by 
some  authorities,  which  will  hardly  be  gainsaid  by  secta- 
rians. The  Rev.  Justus  Doolittle,  for  fourteen  years  a  mis- 
sionary of  tlie  American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions,  in  a 
work  on  Cliina,  says:  "  To  make  a  single  convert  cost 
seven  years' labor  at  Canton,  and  nine  at  Fuhschan;  and  it 
was  twenty-eight  years  ere  a  church  was  organized.  Out  of 
four  hundred  million  souls,  there  are  as  yet  less  than  fhree 
thousand  converts,  as  the  result  of  the  labors  of  two  hun- 
dred missionaries,  after  sixty  years  of  eftbrt." 

Sir  Archibald  Allison,  a  truthful  historian,  who,  in  com- 
prehensive description,  is  second  only  to  Macaulay,  in  his  His- 
tory  of  Europe  siys;  "  Great  have  been  the  efforts  maile, 


108  PIIOGKESSION. 

both  by  the  Protestaut  and  Koraaii  Catholic  churches,  ch- 
])eciftlly  of  hite  yeiirs,  to  diffuse  the  tenets  of  their  resi)ec- 
tive  faiths  in  heathen  lands;  but,  with  the  exception  of 
some  Catholic  missions  of  South  America,  without  the  suc- 
cess that  was  anticipated,  at  least  in  the  outset.  Sectarian 
zeal  lias  united  with  Christian  ])hilanthropy  in  forwarding 
the  j,'reat  undertakinpf;  the  British  and  Foreij^'n  Bible  So- 
ciety has  rivaled  in  activity  the  ])roi)agauda  of  Rome,  and 
the  expenditure  of  £100,000  annually  on  the  enlightenment 
of  foreign  lauds  has  aiVoided  a  magnificent  proof  of  devout 
zeal  auil  British  liberality.  But  no  great  or  decisive  effects 
have  as  j'et  followed  these  efforts;  no  new  nations  have 
been  converted  to  Christianity;  the  conversion  of  a  few 
tribes,  of  which  much  has  been  said,  appears  to  be  little 
more  than  nominal;  and  the  durable  spread  of  the  gospel 
has  been  erenndwe  co-f.rfensive  oiibj  with  that  oftlie  EnropHan 
race.  The  religion  which  obtains  a  lasting  place  in  a  coun- 
try is  often  to  be  regarded  as  an  eftect  rather  than  a  cause. 
It  is  the  consequence  of  a  predisposition  of  the  general 
mind  which  leads  to  tiie  embracing  of  doctrines  or  forms." 

But  the  successful  conversion  of  the  Sandwich  Islanders 
has  long  been  the  stock  in  trade  of  the  missionary  zealot,  in 
prompting  the  faithful  to  more  liberal  contributions  to  the 
missit)nary  funds.  But  these  sectarian  pretensions  are  all 
corrected  by  the  truthful  statements  of  Mark  Twain  (Sam 
Clemens)  that  "  forty  years  ago  Hawaii  contained  two  hun- 
dred thousand  people — now  about  twenty  thousand,  and 
the  population  annually  decreasing.  There  are  three  deaths 
to  one  birth.  Thus  we  see  nine-tenths  have  perished  since 
the  commencement  of  missions."  These  simple  facts  speak 
volumes  in  support  of  our  position,  and  show  that  the  kana- 
kas, with  all  the  sanctifying  influences  of  this  universal  re- 
ligion, like  all  savage  people,  when  brought  in  close  con- 
tact with  civilized  man,  so  take  on  his  vices,  without  his 
moial  stamina,  as  to  surely  dwindle  towards  practical  ex- 
termination. 

It  is  a  further  confirmation  of  this  view  that  most  nations 
wlnle  pas.sing  through  a  semi-civilized  stage  of  unfoldmeut, 
should  adopt  the  astronomical  system  of  religion.  It  seems 
to  be  the  natural  order  of  the  develoj^ment  of  the  human 
mind,  when  its  powers  of  comprehension  are  enlarged,  on 
beholding  that  the  sun  is  far  superior  to  any  power  located  on 
earth — that  it  is  the  source  from  which  emanate  lisrht  and 


PROGHESSION.  109 

heat,  which  prompts  the  fertility  of  the  soil,  from  which 
man  draws  his  sustenance — that  this  incon)prehensible  ))ower 
should  become  the  object  of  relir;;ious  worshij).  Accordinj^dy 
we  find  that  in  the  Egyptian  valh^y  of  the  Nile,  the  Per- 
sians OM  the  plains  about  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  the 
inhabitants  of  India,  the  Aztecs  of  Mexico,  and  the  Incas  of 
Peru,  all  adojjted  an  almost  identical  systenj  of  religion, 
which  consisted  in  worshiping  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the 
starry  firmament.  These  nations  could  scarcely  have  de- 
rived their  religion  one  from  the  other,  nor  can  it  fairly  be 
refeired  to  an  accidental  coincidence,  when  we  consider 
that  the  peoi)le  of  Mexico  and  Peru  grew  up  in  isolated 
positions,  widely  separated  from  all  advanced  nations,  and 
wholly  cut  ofT  from  intercourse  with  any  peo}ile  advanced 
beyond  the  savage  condition.  So  strong  was  this  tendency 
among  the  Hebrews  when  they  left  Egypt,  that  to  break  it 
up  Moses  inade  it  a  capital  offense  to  worship  the  sun,  the 
moon,  and  the  stars. 

Another  resultant  of  progression  is  this:  that  if,  owing 
to  those  constant  fluctuations,  actions,  and  reactions,  tliat 
constantly  occur  throughout  every  department  of  nature, 
the  intellectual  develo})ment  of  any  people  has  outgrown 
the  spiritual,  a  strong  tendency  to  equilibrium  will  render 
a  new  spiritual  growth  inevitable.  Such  a  condition  of 
things  exists  at  the  present  time.  The  spiritual  growth  of 
the  civilized  world  is  from  one  to  two  centuries  behind  the 
intellectual;  and  consequently  religion  is  behind  natural 
science,  and  the  mechanic  appliances  to  supply  the  exter- 
nal comforts  of  life.  Hence  we  are  in  the  midst  of  the 
throes  of  a  transition  period  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  plane 
of  spiritual  unfoldmeiit.  This  movement  is  the  result  of 
the  all-pervadii)g  spiritual  forces  of  our  world.  No 
power  can  arrest  or  stay  its  progress;  it  will  carry  humanity 
upon  the  ceaseless  waves  of  spiritual  ])rogression  towards 
the  goal  of  more  comjilete  individualization  of  each,  and 
the  fraternal  unity  of  all.  By  this  intellectual  development 
the  powers  of  reason  and  criticism  have  become  so  increased 
that  those  evidences  which,  in  the  main,  have  satisfied  i)re- 
vious  generations  of  the  great  fact  of  a  future  life  no  longer 
suflice.  And  unless  new  evidence  had  been  presented, 
which  addressed  itself  to  the  reason  and  senses  of  every 
sincere  atul  ])ersevering  investigator,  the  belief  in  a  future 
life  would  "fraduullv  have  faded  from  human  consciousness. 


110  PROGRESSION. 

But  nature  is  true  to  liorself.  When  this  need  was  fully 
developed,  the  s})irilnal  plieiioinenu  appeared  as  a  general 
movement  to  supply-  such  evidence  of  spirit  life  as  is  adapted 
to  the  intellectual  requirements  of  the  aiije. 

It  may  be  asked,  Wliy  did  not  spiritualism  appear  before? 
Why  were  those  extraordinary  luaiiifeHtations  reserved  for 
the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century?  If  these  questions 
were  asked  b}'^  an  old  theolo^Man,  I  should  answer.  For  the 
same  reason  that  the  reveal luents  of  Moses  were  not  given 
to  Adam  or  Noah,  or  Christianity  to  the  Hebrew  slaves  of 
Egypt.  If  ail}'  other  should  ask  these  questions,  I  should 
answer.  For  the  same  reason  that  a  period  of  which  we  can 
conceive  no  beginning  passed  before  the  matter  composing 
our  earth  assumed  the  globular  form;  for  the  same  reason 
that  the  earth  pursued  her  annual  journey  around  the  sun 
for  untold  ages  ere  man  made  his  appearance.  It  is  fitting 
that  the  same  century  that  has  witnessed  the  general  appli- 
cation of  steam  to  mechanical  labor — that  has  made  the  civ- 
ilized world  one  network  of  railroads  and  telegraph  lines; 
nay,  it  is  fit  that  the  decade  which  has  spanned  the  deep 
vallej's,  the  oozy  plains,  the  rocky  hills  under  the  surging 
waters  of  the  Atlantic,  b}'  a  cable  through  which  messages 
of  intelligence,  of  affection,  of  joy,  and  perchance  of  sorrow, 
are  transmitted  with  lightning  speed,  should  also  unfold  to 
waiting  humanity  the  relations  of  the  spirit  world  and  the 
law  of  spirit  intercourse.  True  spiritualism  is  as  old  as  hu- 
manity. So  the  diastole  and  systole  motion  of  the  heart 
propelled  the  blood  in  its  ceaseless  circuit  through  the 
veins,  the  capillaries,  and  the  arteries  of  the  human  system 
before  Harvey  made  that  fact  known  to  the  scientific  world. 
So  the  jdauets  revolved  about  theii-  primaries  for  countless 
ages  before  Copernicus,  Kepler,  Gallileo,  and  Newton  re- 
vealed the  facts  and  the  laws  to  the  human  consciousness. 
History  is  replete  with  spiritual  |)henomeua  of  which  ihe  text- 
books of  the  schools  and  all  the  systems  of  metaphysical 
philosophy  which  have  succeeded'  and  demolished  each 
other  from  the  days  of  Ari.stotle  to  Herbert  Spencer  afford 
no  solution — nay,  cast  not  a  ray  of  light  upon — which  are 
all  made  plain  to  the  comprehension  of  a  child  b}-  spiritual 
facts  and  philosophy.  Take  the  frequent  occurrence  of  dis- 
tinct impressions  of  the  death  of  a  near  rehitive  at  a  dis- 
tance of  hundreds  of  miles.  Nothing  is  more  natural  than 
that  a  person   dying,  especially  if  separated   from  friends 


PROGHESSION.  Ill 

and  relatives,  should  thiuk,  while  passing  the  great  changes, 
of  the  one  he  most  loves,  and  should  strongly  desire  tiie 
loved  one's  presence.  As  the  s|)irit  is  se2)arated  from  the 
body  tliis  desire  becomes  a  mcjtive  power,  carrying  the  per- 
haj)S  scarcely  conscious  spirit  with  great  rapidity  till  it  im- 
pinges on  the  spirit  of  the  loved  one,  imparting  so  much  of 
its  magnetism  as  to  create  the  impression  of  the  change 
through  which  the  spirit  of  tlie  relative  has  passeil.  Sjnrit- 
ualism  renders  this  entire  class  of  cases  entirely  phiin,  while 
ever}'  other  system  of  meiital  philosophy  leaves  it  in  utter 
darkness. 

Again;  take  tlie  large  class  of  cases  of  warnings  of  ap- 
proaching danger.  These  abundant,  well-authenticated 
cases  are  wholly  inexplicable  by  any  system  of  phik)Soi>liy 
recorded  in  history  anterior  to  the  spiritual  philosoidiy, 
whiclj  renders  them  as  plain  as  any  scientific  fact.  Stilling 
relates  that  Professor  Bolim,  teacher  of  mathematics  at 
Marburg,  while  taking  tea  with  company  away  from  home, 
felt  a  sudden  impulse  to  go  liome  and  remove  his  bed  from 
the  side  of  the  room  where  it  had  stood,  to  another  )iart  of 
the  room.  Although  no  reason  was  given  for  it,  the  im- 
])ression  was  so  strong  that  he  could  have  no  peace  until  he 
went.  He  went  home,  had  the  bed  removed,  and  returned 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  evening.  Tliat  night  about 
two  o'clock  he  was  awakened  by  a  loud  crash,  when,  on 
looking,  he  beheld  a  large  beam,  which  had  fallen,  with 
part  of  the  ceiling,  lying  across  the  spot  from  which  he  had 
ren)oved  his  bed. 

Tlie  following  account  I  wrote  down  from  the  lips  of  the 
narrator,  Henry  Lewis,  a  truthful  and  reliable  man:  He 
was  a  pioneer  in  tiie  early  settlement  of  the  town  of  La 
Grange,  in  northern  Ohio.  He  had  settled  his  family  on  a 
homestead  covered  with  the  original  forest  of  beech,  maple, 
hickory,  oak,  and  other  trees.  He  had  formed  a  plan  of 
felling  several  trees  so  as  to  throw  the  branches  and  trunks 
into  a  pile  for  burning,  after  the  manner  of  woodnjen,  and 
commenced  chop))ing  the  tirst  tree.  He  was  suddenly  seized 
witli  an  impulse  to  leave  the  tree.  Altiiough  no  reason 
was  given  for  it,  the  im|)ressinn  was  so  strong  that  he  went, 
but  after  considering  tliat  that  was  the  tree  to  be  felled 
first,  returned  to  his  labor.  Again  the  impression  seized 
him,  stronger  titan  before.  Obedient  to  tne  mysterious 
impulse,  he  walked  away  again,  when  a  large  dry  limb  was 


H2  r'UfxnticseiON. 

loosened  from  its  lodpfinent  in  tlie  braiiclifts  and  came 
down  wliizziiig  tliion^li  tlio  foliu^^f;  and  struck  directly  in  tlie 
trardvs  where  lie  had  stood,  with  snllictient  force  to  Ijave 
killed  him  instantly.  These  cases  occurred  lonj,'  anterior 
to  the  modern  manifestations,  but  if  we  admit  the  teaching 
of  our  beautiful  faith — that  we  are  attended  through  our 
earth  life  by  guardian  spirits  attracted  to  us  by  afl'ection;  or 
to  get  that  experience  which  an  early  death  has  denied  them 
in  the  usual  manner,  and  that  these  spirits,  seeing  clearer 
than  we,  and  beholding  the  condition  of  their  protege, 
made  extraordinary  exertions  to  warn  him  of  impending 
danger — and  the  solution  of  the  mystery  is  complete. 

In  conclusion,  allow  me  to  make  an  obvious  inference, 
that  the  human  soul,  being  the  highest  product  of  nature's 
xiufoldment,  is  in  its  essential  essence  pure  and  perfect; 
that  its  condition  here  is  owing  to  those  limitations,  arrest- 
ments, and  obstructions  it  has  met  with  in  the  external 
conditions  of  its  growth;  and  as  all  the  improvements 
which  have  been  made  in  the  flowers  that  beautify  the  face 
of  nature,  and  all  the  fruits  and  cereals  that  fill  the  land 
with  abundance,  have  resulted  from  carefully  studying  na- 
ture's laws  and  methods  and  working  with  and  assisting 
her,  so  it  must  be  in  the  higher  departments  of  morals  and 
religion. 

Let  us  not  be  deceived  or  disheartened  at  the  apparently 
slow  progress  of  humanity  in  substantial  morality.  Go 
look  at  the  sun  for  five  minutes  and  j'ou  cannot  perceive 
that  be  has  moved  in  his  daily  journey  athwart  the  firma- 
ment; but  remember  that  five  minutes  is,  beyond  compar- 
ison, longer,  compared  to  a  da}',  than  the  life  of  an  indi- 
vidual is  compared  to  the  life  of  the  race,  which  competent 
geologists  estimate  already  to  have  been  100,000  years. 

"  Let  us  tlien  be  up  and  doing, 

Witli  a  heai-t  for  any  fate; 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing. 

Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait." 

As  all  things,  from  the  vast  to  the  minute,  are  contin- 
ually progressing,  we,  too,  must  industriously  push  forward 
or  inevitably  be  left  in  the  rear. 

"  Nations  may  fall  t<>  rise  no  more. 
Vet  sounding  on  old  Ocean's  shore. 
Amid  the  vast  infinitude, 
Is  (xod's  eternal  interlude, 
On! — forever  on! '" 


The  Coming  Religion, 


A    DRAMATIC    ALLEGORY    BY    DR.    JOHN    ALLYX. 


Pdblished  1882. 


The  "Vision  of  Aldebeiau,"  on  our  first  page,  is  recom- 
lueiided  to  the  reader's  attention  as  an  interesting  and  a 
more  than  cursor}'  ghiuce  in  the  direction  of  "  Tiie  Coining 
Religion" — though  it  fails  to  present  prominent!}'  one 
characteristic  which  must  predominate  in  "  the  good  time 
coming:'"  which  is,  the  sentiment  of  Universal  Brother- 
hood, or  interest  in  and  care  for  the  welfare  of  each  other. 
— Bonner  of  Lu/Iil,  September  0,  18S2. 

[Introduction. — What  is  stated  in  this  allegory  in  regard 
to  its  production  is  substantially  true,  though  varied  imma- 
terially for  the  sake  of  brevity  and  interest.  I  have  en- 
deavored to  put  it  in  an  attractive  form,  for  even  the  dia- 
mond depends  somewhat  on  its  setting  for  the  effect  it  may 
jiroduce.  If  you  do  not  approve  of  the  setting,  do  not 
throw  away  the  diamond.  More  than  four  months  before 
a  word  was  written  I  was  assured  that  a  band  of  spirits  in- 
tended to  make  an  important  communication  through  my 
mediiimship.  This  wjis  written  on  a  slate,  in  broad  day, 
by  no  human  hand,  according  to  the  most  critical  investi- 
gation— attested  by  my  ears  and  my  eyes.  I  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  I  could  write.  In  fact,  it  seemed  im- 
])ossible  that  I  could  ])roiluce  anytliing  of  value  or  interest. 
This  was  followed  up  for  four  months,  through  diflerent 
mediums,  all  to  the  same  import.  I  am  not  conscious  of 
any  desire  to  make  money  or  fame  out  of  this,  but  only 
Lope  it  may  benefit  my  fellow  beings.  I  make  this  state- 
ment in  regard  to  this  extraordinary  production  because  it 
is  true,  knowing  that  the  matter  contained  in  the  article 
must  stand  on  its  intrinsic  merit. — John  Allyn.  I 


114  THE    COMING    UEUOION. 

THE  VISION    OF  ALDEBERAN. 


Iiivocalion: 

(iuaidian  spirits,  from  danger  defend  us; 
111  tliis  iin[)erfcct  state  amend  us; 
Help  us  to  form  a  grand  ideal, 
And  strive  to  make  its  beauties  real. 
So  shall  we  walk  life's  dubious  ways 
Until  the  dawn  of  brighter  days. 

Prelude: 

Friends  of  earth,  we  come  to  meet  you, 
And  most  happy  are  to  greet  you ; 
A  happy  band  of  teachers  we, 
Two  are  men,  and  we  are  three. 

From  far-off  worlds  we've  come  to  teach 
Truths  for  earnest  souls  to  preach; 
We've  come  to  aid  religion's  Ijirth, 
The  last  that  e'er  will  come  to  earth. 

Give  ear,  kind  friends,  and  listen  well 

While  we  our  wondrous  story  tell; 

A  happy  band  of  teachers  we, 

Two  are  men,  and  we  are  three. 

The  other  is  an  angel  pure, 

Whose  kindly  words  will  long  endure. 

On  one  of  those  delicious  evenings  of  May,  when  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  be  in  the  open  air,  as  I  was  reclining  on  a  bam- 
boo lounge  in  front  of  my  humble  home,  I  queried  if  the 
stars  which  shone  so  beautifully  were  inhabited  by  beings 
of  the  human  type;  and  if  so,  what  the  condition  of  society 
is  in  those  various  worlds.  My  mind  was  pained  and  op- 
pressed at  the  Condition  of  the  children  of  the  earth  as  I 
contemplated  the  wars,  crimes  of  every  grade,  suicides,  in- 
sanity, avoidable  diseases  and  premature  deaths;  how  some 
acquire  vast  fortunes  in  a  few  years,  partly  by  superior  en- 
ergy and  sagacity,  partly  by  cunning,  and  often  partly  by 
fraudulent  deceit,  and  spend  their  means  in  vulgar  display, 
in  foreign  lands;  while  others,  with  haggard  faces,  work 
beyond  tlieir  strength  to  gain  the  means  of  extending  a 
wretched  existence.  Fatigued  with  these  fruitless  thoughts 
a  tremor  shook  my  frame,  m}'  senses  were  closed  to  exter- 
nal iinjnessious,  my  mind  was  abnormally  quickened,  when 
the  most  ravishing  music  greeted  mv  ear.  the  verv  thoughts 


THE    COJIIXG    RELIGION.  115 

of  which   now   thrill  my  soul   with  inexpressible    delight. 
The  words  I  could  not  catch,  but  the  chorus  run: 

From  far-off  worlds  we've  come  to  teach 
Truths  for  earnest  souls  to  preach; 
We've  come  to  aid  religion's  hirth, 
Tlie  last  that  e'er  will  come  to  earth. 

During  this  music  three  beings  appeared  before  me,  of 
surpassing  beauty  and  pert'ectiun.  For  the  first  time  my 
mind  feasted  in  beholding  human  beii)g.s  who  were  abso- 
lutely faultlessly  perfect  in  feature,  form,  com])lexion,  and 
expression,  and  beyond  criticism  by  the  most  skillful  artist. 
Tw^o  of  these  were  men  and  one  a  woman.  I  intuitively 
perceived  that  their  minds  were  as  perfect  as  their  physitjue 
appeared  to  be — not  one  faculty  cultivated  at  the  expense 
of  another,  nor  the  whole  mind  at  the  expense  of  the  physi- 
cal system. 

One,  whom  for  convenience  I  shall  designate  Dr.  Symetri- 
cus  Aldeberan,  said:  "  We  are  an  eml)assy  from  one  of  those 
stars  you  so  admired  as  it  twinkled  beautifully  in  space."  I 
suggested  Alpha  Centauri.  sixty-one  cvf/di.  Aldeberan,  with 
a  majestic  wave  of  his  hand,  be  said:  "  It  matters  not;  it  is 
better  you  shoidd  not  be  informed,  for  the  truths  we  have  to 
utter  must  stand  upon  their  own  merits.  We  have  some 
instruction  to  impart  of  great  importance  to  the  children  of 
earth,  and  particularly  to  the  American  people.  It  has  been 
our  life-work,  extending  through  £eons  and  a.'ons,  to  study 
the  moral  and  religious  growth  of  the  people  of  the  various 
planets  as  they  have  progressed  from  a  savage  condition  to 
the  highest  and  most  perfect  civilization. 

"  Of  the  six  thousand  stars  you  see  twinkling  so  beauti- 
fully in  the  ethereal  blue,  some  are  binary,  revolving  about 
a  common  center;  but  tlie  greater  part  are  central  suns 
with  families  of  planets  revolving  about  them,  and  receiv- 
ing life-giving  elements  from  their  parent  suns.  The  ))laiiets 
are  in  various  stages  of  growth;  suuie  are  in  the  diilused 
gaseous  condition  of  irregular  form,  some  are  in  the  molten, 
fiery  stage,  and  have,  in  ()l)edieiice  to  attraction,  assumed 
the  glol)ul!ir  form;  some  have  radiated  their  heat  until  a 
crust  is  formed,  tlie  foundation  of  a  peopled  world.  Some 
have  reached  the  life  bearing  stage,  and  in  a  small  proj)or- 
tion  life  has  progressed  to  the  human  type,  while  in  a  still 
smaller  number,  human  beings  ami  society  have  reached  a 


116  Till',    CoMINO    lU;iJ(iI()N. 

condition  inconcoivubly  more  ))(;if('ct.  tliiiii  on  earth,  wliile 
others  liave  exhniisted  tlieir  liff-beuring  elements  and  be- 
come dead  worlds,  thus  sih^ntly  adnionisliinf^  you  of  the 
fate  of  all  worlds  in  the  countless  teons  yet  to  come.  As 
each  a^'ed  i)ersou  has  ])assed  tlirouf^h  tlie  various  stages  of 
infancy,  early  youth,  later  youth,  matdiood,  maturer  man- 
hood, and  so  on  to  the  stage  of  the  decline  of  life's  forces 
— so  all  ))lanets  have  i)assed  through  the  various  stages  de- 
scribed, or  are  on  the  inevital)le  road   to  those  conditions. 

"  The  reason  that  earth's  inhabitants  are  in  a  disturbed 
and  unhappy  condition — that  emperors  are  assassinated, 
vice,  crime,  and  insanit}'  are  increasing  in  spite  of  increas- 
ing light,  education,  and  power  over  the  material  resources 
of  nature — is,  that  the  people  of  earth  are  now  passing 
through  a  religious  transition  period.  The  juinds  of  the 
greatest  thinkers  are  unsettled  on  the  fundamental  ques- 
tions of  man's  origin,  character,  and  destiny,  from  which 
practical  morality  springs;  and  there  is  said  to  be  a  moral 
interregnum.  Your  condition  can  be  but  little  improved 
until  this  critical  period  in  religion  and  morality  is  passed, 
and  they  become  firmly  established  on  the  demonstrated 
truths  and  principles  which  inhere  in  the  human  constitu- 
tion and  its  environment.  The  inhabitants  of  all  worlds, 
older  in  development  than  yours,  have  passed  through  this 
same  critical  and  disturbed  period  to  one  of  greater  har- 
mony and  happiness. 

"  We,  whose  business  it  is  to  be  the  teachers  and  helpers 
of  our  human  brethren,  have  observeii  many  worlds  as  they 
l)assed  through  tljis  transitional  period  iu  religion  and 
morals;  we  know  its  various  stages  and  symptoms  as  well 
as  a  skillful  physician  knows  the  stages  and  .symptoms  of 
the  most  common  disease.  To  make  our  meaning  plain,  we 
must  premise  that  the  people  of  all  planets  whose  human 
race  has  reached  a  mature  development  have  passed  through 
three  stages  of  religion;  these  are  Fetichism,  Polytheism, 
Monotheism,  and  so  on  to  the  Theanthropic,  or  the  reli- 
gion of  humanity,  which  is  the  final  and  permanent  condi- 
tion. These  are  somewhat  mixed  and  blended,  as  day  van- 
ishes through  twilight  to  night,  and  night  through  rosy  dawn, 
to  full-orbed  day.  Fetichism  is  the  religion  of  savage  people; 
it  consists  in  putting  faith  in  inanimate  objects,  snch  as 
charms,  trinkets,  idols  of  wood  and  stone  and  metal;  and 
in  its  highest  expression  con-ists,  as  b v  the  Persians,  in  the 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  117 

worship  of  siin,  moon,  and  stars.  So  fascinating  was  this, 
that  Moses  made  it  imnishidjle  with  death,  to  w^au  the  He- 
brews from  its  ))ractice.  Polvtlieism  c(jnsists  in  ])ersonify- 
ing'  the  various  forces  of  nature,  aiul  making  a  visible  rep- 
resentation; thns,  Jupiter  flashed  in  tlie  lightning,  rolled 
in  the  tliunder;  Ne])tune  controlled  the  ocean's  storms. 
This  toiind  its  culminating  expression  in  Ejjhesus,  Greece, 
and  Home,  until  their  philosophers  discovered  its  empti- 
ness, and  their  satirists  rid'dled  it  with  ridicule,  when  it 
perished,  never  to  a])pear  (i^ain  on  earth.  The  Hebrew  re- 
ligion, as  instituted  by  Moses,  is  an  example  of  the  purest 
Monotheism  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

"  Cliristianity,  its  outgrowth,  is  ji  mixture  of  Monotheism, 
Polytheism,  and  Fetichism.  Monotheism  it  receives  from 
its  progenitor.  Its  devil,  its  trinitj',  especially  its  Christ, 
partake  of  the  character  of  Polytheism.  Its  cross  and  sa- 
cred relics,  and  even  its  Bihle,  held  so  far  above  its  intrin- 
sic meiit,  ]>artake  of  Fetichism.  At  tlie  advent  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  cultuied  few  in  Greece  and  Ktnue  saw  tlie  emp- 
tiness of  their  rfli<,'ion;  but  the  masses  w<  re  so  sunk  in  ig- 
norance and  superstition,  and  so  infatuated  with  their  gods, 
th;it  ])ure  Monotheism  could  not  have  prevailed  in  Greece 
or  liome.  or  won  its  way  over  Odin  and  'I'hor  in  north- 
western Euroi)e.  This  mixture  was  a  necessary  condition 
of  tlie  success  of  Christianity.  Most  countries  of  distinc- 
tive civilization  have  originat-  d  their  own  religion.  India 
originated  Brahmiiiism  and  Buddhism;  Egypt  had  her  Isis 
and  Osiris;  tiie  Hebrews  Inid  their  Jeliovah;  Greece  had 
her  gods;  Scandinavia  originatetl  Odinism.  Christianity 
was  personal  atid  local  in  its  origin,  iidapted  to  n  peculiar 
jdiase  of  civilization.  Lord  Beaconslield  thought  the  Ameri- 
can p^•ople  must  be  (bticient  in  inventive  faculties,  or  with 
a  distinctive  civilization  tiiey  W(udd  have  originated  their 
own  leligion. 

'■  He  i\u\  not  redize  that  a  religi(Ui  is  now  sjjiinging  from 
the  bosom  ol  the  American  jieople  that  will  be  <j^eneral  in 
its  character,  sup|ilanting  all  others  and  uniting  them  in 
religion  as  in  governmeni,  education,  and  science." 

I  said:  "  Dr.  Symelricus,  you  are  aware  that  many  of  our 
thinkers,  scientists,  .•iii<i  philosophers  tliiidi  religion  is  un- 
Uf-cessary  in  civilized  life.  Will  you  please  give  us  your 
views  oil  thiit  poini  ?  ' 

He    replied:      "This    is    a    very    important    matter    ami 


118  THK    COMINO    Uia.KilON. 

worthy  our  best  consideration.  If  all  were  pljilosophers 
with  well-oiiltivated  niorul  faculties,  society  could  exist 
■without  relij>ion;  but  in  reality  we  all  commence  our 
earthly  life  as  children;  and  the  worst  of  it  is  that,  so  far 
as  our  present  argument  is  concerned,  many  of  us  remain 
children  to  the  end  of  life.  Very  few  attain  to  the  power  of 
clear  reasoning;  on  moral  subjects  until  the  apj'e  of  twenty- 
live,  and  the  majority  of  mankind  do  not  durinj/  their  nat- 
ural lives.  Conscience  is  an  emotional  power  of  the  mind 
"which,  in  its  natural  expression,  affords  no  criterion  of 
rifi;ht  or  wronj^'.  It  simplj'  enforces  the  convictions  the 
mind  has  received  throu'^h  life's  experiences  and  educa- 
tional training;  hence  the  importance  that  this  training 
should  be  as  efficient  and  correct  as  possible  during  early 
life  while  the  mind  is  in  its  most  plastic  condition.  This 
can  only  be  effected  through  a  religious  system  which  can 
command  the  confidence  of  the  scientists  and  philosophers 
of  the  country. 

"  It  is  necf^ssary  to  the  lucid  treatment  of  a  subject  that 
its  leading  terms  should  be  defined.  This  is  especially  true 
of  religion,  3'et  there  is  no  adequate  definition  in  your  dic- 
tionaries; even  your  literary  men  are  unable  to  give  an  ad- 
equate detinitiou.  The  senior  class  of  theological  students 
of  California  cannot  define  it  correctly;  the  lawyers  of  Phil- 
adelphia cannot;  and,  incredible  as  it  may  seem  to  a  New 
Euglander,  even  the  transcendental  philosophers  of  Bos- 
ton and  Concord  cannot.  Keligion,  according  to  its  high- 
est development,  is  a  cult,  whose  object  is  moral  culture  as 
an  end,  and  physical  culture  as  a  means  to  that  end.  Ac- 
cording to  the  theology  of  the  Middle  Ages,  which  still  lin- 
gers in  the  lap  of  the  age  of  light;  the  objects  of  religion 
are  to  appease  an  angry  God,  to  escape  the  wiles  of  a  ma- 
lignant devil,  to  escape  a  burning  hell,  to  achieve  some 
temporal  good  through  prayer  and  observances,  rather  than 
by  controlling  the  causes  that  lead  to  such  blessings 
through  the  laws  and  forces  that  surround  us. 

"These  ideas  will  be  found  to  be  myths  having  no  foun- 
dation in  reality  and  will  be  dropped  from  human  con- 
sciousness as  the  people  emerge  into  the  latter  part  of  this 
religious  transition  period." 

I  inquired  what  would  become  of  religious  worship. 

He  replied:  "  Worship  has  no  eliect  whatever  on  the  ob- 
ject or  being  worshiped,  since  everything  that  comes  to  us 


THE    COMING    RELKilUN.  119 

comes  by,  in,  aud  tlirough  the  laws  of  nature  as  tbey  exist 
within  our  own  being-  and  environment.  Worship  may 
have  a  mild  tendency  to  assimilate  tlie  worshiper  to  the  ob- 
ject worshiped.  We  admit  the  Sn])reme  Unitar}'  Power  of 
Nature,  but  still  it  must  be  plain  that,  in  worshiping,  a  per- 
sonal God  is  a  pure  ideal  conception  which  every  human 
being  necessarih'  forms  for  himself.  If  this  ideal  be  a  '  man 
of  war,'  vengeful,  angry  at  times,  partial,  elevating  one 
tribe  at  the  expense  of  exterminating  others;  punishing  by 
endless  torment  the  majority  of  his  own  creatures,  the  ef- 
fect cannot  but  be  demoralizing.  The  tendencies  are  par- 
tially counteracted  by  the  wholesome  moral  tendency  of  all 
normally  developed  natures,  by  pleasant  music,  the  elo- 
quence of  a  cultured  preacher,  and  the  pleasant  surround- 
ings of  a  wealthy  church.  Worship,  then,  is  a  function  of 
religion  as  transient  in  its  character  as  animal  sacrifice,  and 
will  not  survive  the  present  transition  period." 

I  inquired  what  would  be  the  first  commandment  in  the 
new  religion. 

He  replied:  "  The  first  commandment  of  the  decalogue 
had  a  pertinent  api)lication  to  the  people  to  whom  it  was 
given.  Polytheism  was  the  highest  phase  of  religion  which 
bad  obtained  credence  at  that  tiiue.  While  Moses  still 
lingered  amid  the  smoke  and  thunderings  of  Sinai,  the  He- 
brews clamored  for  a  calf  to  worsliip,  and  Aaron  yielded  to 
their  iniportunities.  They  had  no  doubt  been  educated  to 
worship  the  sacred  bull,  Apis,  of  the  Egyptians,  an  incar- 
nation of  the  greater  god,  Osiris,  in  their  mythology.  Tlieir 
early  bias  was  so  strong  that  they  could  not  be  sati.sfied 
without  doing  homage  to  an  emblem  of  the  god  of  their 
fathers. 

"Moses  undertook  the  difficult  task  of  breaking  up  Poly- 
theism and  establishing  the  worship  of  the  one  God  supe- 
rior to  all  others,  who  was,  in  his  system,  the  especial  pro- 
tector of  the  nation  he  essayed  to  establish;  hence  the 
pertinence  of  the  lirst  comn)andment,  'Thou  shalt  have  no 
other  gods  before  me.'  But  since,  Puh'theism  has  ceased  to 
exist,  for  twelve  centuiies  it  has  had  no  application  what- 
ever to  the  existing  conditions  of  Christendom.  During  this 
time  countless  tliousands  have  perished  by  living  in  viola- 
tion of  the  plainest  jn'inciples  of  pliysiology.  This,  then, 
should  be  the  first  comnjand:  Tkou  slialt  obey  plujswlogwal 
law." 


120  THE    COYINQ    ULLIGION. 

I  iiiqiiiied  wliiit  doctrines  of  religion  wliould  be  tauglit  in 
reficiird  to  tliose  f^^reat  ])roblenis  wlii(rh  are  peculiarly  reli- 
gious— as  tlje  being  and  character  of  tlie  Supreme  Power 
of  the  Universe,  the  origin  of  man,  the  nature  and  destiny 
of  the  human  spirit,  and  the  relation  of  the  spiritual  world 
to  the  visible  and  material  world  we  inhabit. 

He  replied:  "The  answer  is  very  easy,  and  verj' jjlain. 
That  which  is  known  and  can  be  verified  should  be  taught; 
that  which  is  not  known  should  be  investigated.  It  is  the 
same  rule  which  obtains  in  science,  in  agriculture,  in  me- 
chanics In  all  of  these  a  working  hy]iothesis  is  useful  in 
investigation  as  a  ground  of  experiment,  and  these  have  led 
to  some  of  the  most  important  discoveries  in  science.  .  But 
there  is  a  clear  distinction  between  these  provision-il  as- 
sumptions and  demonstrable  truths.  But  henceforth  the 
mind  must  be  left  free;  let  no  religious  teachers  and  no  ec- 
clesiastical councils  attempt  to  trammel  the  human  mind; 
let  them  not  say  you  must  believe  this  or  you  must  not  be- 
lieve that  under  penalty.  Belief  is  iiivoluntury;  it  is  the 
conclusion  of  the  intellect  from  the  evidence  as  the  mind 
sees  it. 

"Original  and  free  investigation  for  an  honest  purpose  is 
as  commendable  in  religion  as  in  science.  It  is  the  primary 
duty  of  religious  teachers,  as  a  class,  to  enlarge  the  boun- 
daries of  human  knowledge  in  regard  to  these  great  mat- 
ters. If  this  rule  be  observed — preach  what  is  known, 
search  out  what  is  unknown^you  will  not  be  troubled 
with  long  sermons  on  hot  afternoons  as  many  have  been  in 
the  days  of  their  youth. 

"  Keligious  exercises  must  mainly  be  addressed  to  the 
emotions;  for  all  are  emotional,  whether  young  or  old, 
learned  or  unlearned.  But  the  doctrinal  teaching  must  not 
be  oliensive  to  the  few  who  have  cultivated  the  reasoning 
faculties  to  the  highest  degree  and  are  the  best  posted  in 
scientific  matters.  Foetr}',  eloquence,  and  music  must  ever 
remain  the  tit  instruments  of  religious  exercises." 

I  inquired  of  my  teaciier  what  he  thought  of  our  public 
schools  as  a  means  of  moral  improvement. 

He  laughed  at  the  idea.  "  We  thought  so  at  one  time 
on  our  phmet,  but  that  was  aeons  and  reons  ago  when  our 
schools  were  in  a  similar  condition  to  yours  at  the  present 
time.  A  singular  circumstance  happened  which  brought  to 
light  a  fact  not  mentioned  in  our  current  histories.     An  an- 


THE    COMING    HELIGION.  121 

tiqnarian  wlio  spends  his  life  iu  liui^tinfr  for  scraps  of  for- 
gotten lore,  in  searcliing  among  tlie  voluminous  archives 
found  an  ancient  document  wiiich  aj)peared  well  anthenti- 
Ciiled  with  the  seal  of  a  great  and  proud  State,  which 
showed  that  in  those  remote  times  tejichers  actually  re- 
sorted to  fraud  to  gain  certificates  of  their  qualifications  for 
teaclers.  This  seemed  inci'edible  to  our  jieople;  but  it  was 
further  shown  that  neither  moral  nor  religious  principles 
were  taught.  Little  or  no  training  was  given  to  fit  the  pu- 
pils for  the  actual  business  of  life,  nor  was  it  impressed  on 
them  that  all  necessary  labor  is  honoiable.  On  the  cou- 
traiT,  some  teachers  told  tlieir  pupils  tiiat  education  was  a 
means  of  sharpening  the  faculties  so  they  could  escape 
tlieir  share  of  labor.  Then  it  began  to  dawn  on  the  peojjle 
that  their  public-sch'or)!  system  was  inadequate  to  the  work 
in  hand  of  properly  training  the  young. 

"As  our  planet  passed  the  hist  religious  transition,  moral 
and  religious  iiisiruciion  went  h.tnd  in  hand  with  secular 
education;  andwli.it  nifi}' seem  incredible  to  you,  the  reli- 
gious teaching  took  hold  of  the  minds  of  the  j'oung,  because 
it  conesponded  with  ihe  laws  of  nature  and  was  verified 
and  confiinied  by  ail  subsequent  experience.  We  no  longer 
heard  the  alarming  reimirk  that  ciime  and  vice  increased 
with  increasing  intelligence.  And  no  education  is  consid- 
ered com|)lete  which  does  not  enable  the  recipient  to  ob- 
serve closely,  reason  accurately,  analyze  comi)letely,  and 
educe  a  correct  conclusion  on  any  subject,  in  spite  of  the 
ordinary  bias  of  ])assion,  prejuilice,  and  preconceived  opin- 
ion; also,  all  triiining  of  the  young  had  special  reference  to 
fitting  them  for  the  places  they  were  most  likely  to  occupy 
in  niatuie  life. 

"In  the  coining  religion  man  will  rise  into  the  region  of 
onuses  and  fully  ajjpreciate  their  relative  and  absolute 
power  in  ev(  ry  dejiartment  of  att'.iirs;  and  the  fruitlessness 
of  all  efforts  for  improvement  which  dabble  with  effects 
alone.  Within  the  last  half-century  man  has  made  wt)nder- 
ful  strides  in  obtaining  a  mastery  over  the  forces  and  ma- 
terials of  nature.  Continents  have  been  gridironed  with 
steel  rails  and  telegniph  wires,  and  machineiT  has  been 
applied  to  nmnufacture  everything  requisite  to  his  comfort. 
It  now  remains  for  nmn  to  gain  the  mastery  over  himself, 
as  an  indivi'dual,  and  as  a  race  comjiosed  of  tlie  aggn^^ate  of 
indivichnds.     He    must  rise   to   a   clear   perception  of   the 


122  TOE    COMING    HKLIOION. 

causes  wljich  Iciul  lo  sncli  u  iioiniiil  development  of  tlie 
pliyKVcal,  iiitellcctufil,  aiid  monil  powers  as  shall  render 
easy  and  habitu.il  tlie  obedience  to  physiological  require- 
ments for  the  highest  development  of  the  iiidividiial  and  of 
the  race.  Then  diseases  will  almost  cease  to  afflict,  and 
medicines  will  literally  and  figuratively  become  a  drug  in 
the  market.  Excessive  wealth  and  excessive  povert}',  will 
alike  cease.  Wealth  will  be  no  excuse  for  idleness  nor 
povert}'  for  overwork.  The  new  religion  will  be  a  powerful 
and  indispensable  auxiliary  in  iirodiuing  tliese  results  The 
requisite  principles  will  be  taught  fr(jjn  childhood  and  en- 
forced by  the  moral  power  of  example." 

I  inquired  of  my  venerable  instructor  how  bis  physiolog- 
ical principles  should  be  i)ut  into  practice. 

He  answered:  "  There  was  a  time  in  the  history  of  our 
planet  when  it  presented  great  difficulties  on  account  of 
interested  professit)nals  and  the  vulgar  prejudices  of  un- 
cultured and  undeveloped  minds;  but  as  our  people  began 
to  emerge  from  the  age  of  faith  and  mythology  to  the  age 
of  scientific  religion,  a  sanitary  commission  was  established 
by  law  and  supported  by  the  State. 

"  This  consisted  of  three  for  every  ten  thousand,  whose 
lives  were  devoted  to  physiological  studies.  All  candidates 
for  matrimony  were  required  to  be  examined  by  this  com- 
mission, somewhat  as  an  ajjplicant  for  life  insurance  has  to 
be  with  3'ou. 

"A  careful  record  of  this  was  kept  in  the  archives  of 
State  to  be  held  private  for  the  uses  intended.  If  the  ap- 
plicants misrepresented  they  were  liable  to  the  penalties  of 
jierjury;  if,  contrary  to  instruction,  the}'  became  parents 
and  were  afflicted  with  children  of  a  feeble  and  sickly  con- 
stitution, doomed  to  an  early  death  or  sickly  life;  they 
could  not  lay  the  blame  to  a  mysterious  providence  or  ex- 
pect the  sympathy  of  their  neighbors  and  friends.  Com- 
mon sense,  foresight,  and  prudence  all  contributed  to  work 
out  a  glorious  result.  In  a  few  generations  the  children 
were  uniformly  strong,  healthy,  and  beautiful,  and  it  was  a 
great  source  of  pleasure  to  look  at  them  and  witness  their 
sports. 

"  Say  not  that  such  a  discrimination  will  be  dishonorable 
or  disreputable  to  that  moiety  who  are  assigned  other  du- 
ties and  other  pleasures  than  those  of  parentage.  These 
crude  ideas  spring  from  undeveloped  brains,  the  result  of 
semi-civilized  conditions. 


THE    COMIXd    HF.LIGKlN.  123 

"The  dislionorahle  part  is  to  hand  down  to  innocent  and 
lielpless  generations  of  the  future  evils  which  foresight, 
wisdom,  and  the  exalted  morality  we  teach  might  avoid. 

"There  can  be  no  greater  niiserv  thnn  to  beconie  i)arents 
of  children  of  sickly  and  feeble  constitutions,  inevitably 
doomed  to  early  death,  or,  worse  still,  to  drag  out  a  life 
alike  joyless  to  themselves  and  useless  to  the  society  in 
which  they  dwell;  nor  can  there  be  a  more  keen  and 
poignant  suftering  than  the  stings  of  conscience  to  a  sensi- 
tive soul  when  evils  result  from  a  violation  of  the  best  reli- 
gious instruction  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Darwin  has 
demonstrated  to  the  scientific  world  that  animal  life  has  at- 
tained its  present  status  through  the  operation  of  the  laws 
of  heredity,  variation,  natural  selection,  and  the  survival  of 
the  fittest.  Humanit}'  must  be  carried  up  to  a  still  higher 
plane  through  the  same  laws,  with  the  additi(m  of  physio- 
logical and  moral  selection.  Let  no  one  say  that  we  teach  the 
hideous  doctrine  of  free  love.  On  the  contrary,  we  teach 
the  absolute  sacredness  of  true  marringe,  and  that  the  high- 
est expression  of  love  should  be  chastened  and  directed  by 
the  highest  wisdom  and  most  exalted  morality.  Those  who 
are  unfit  to  become  parents  by  physiological  conditions  are 
entitled  to  a  joyous  and  hap])y  existence;  as  much  so  as 
their  natural  constitutions  and  circumstances  will  permit; 
but  the  most  serene  and  soulful  happiness  is  impossible  to 
those  who  are  not  truly  useful  to  the  society  in  which  they 
live  and  the  human  race  as  as  a  whole." 

He  continued:  "  When  people  learn  to  live  according  to 
physiological  requirements  and  conditions,  medicines  will 
be  but  little  needed.  The  medical  profession  will  be  more 
useful,  even,  than  it  is  now.  It  will  be  elevated  from 
writing  Latin  prescrijitions  for  drugs  of  doubtful  utility  to 
pointing  out  in  ])lain  English  sanitary  laws  and  conditions, 
which  will  result  in  avoiding  the  greater  portion  of  the  dis- 
eases that  atllict  humanity.  A  constitutional  vigor  will  be 
developed  which  will  enal)le  each  one  to  resist  slight  un- 
wholesome conditions  which  cannot  be  avoided  in  the  pres- 
ent conilition  of  your  planet.  But  as  your  planet  pro- 
gresses to  the  mature  condition  of  the  human  bearing  pe- 
riod; the  meteorological,  electrical,  magnetic,  and  other 
sanitary  conditions  will  be  greatly  improved.  This,  in  con- 
nection with  voluntary  eftbrts  on  the  part  of  the  people, 
will  carry  humanity  up  to  a  condition  of  happiness  ami 


124  TUK    COMIXa    lUiLIGION. 

perfection  beyond  the  most  j^oetic  dre.'unH  of  tlie  [Jtoi>ian 
pliilosopliccH." 

I  iii(]iiire(l  wliiit  would  be  tbe  result  of  the  apparent  uu- 
taj4:onisni  between  labor  and  capital. 

He  replied:  "These  a^ntations  and  disturbances  will 
cease  as  societ}'  becomes  elevated  b}'  the  operation  of  the 
forces  we  have  named.  When  the  new  relijy;ion  becomes 
firmly  and  full}'  established,  by  its  code  of  moral  ethics,  no 
one  will  be  permitted  to  perform  more  than  six  hours  of 
earuest,  taxinfi;  labor  in  a  day,  either  of  the  brain  or  mus- 
cles; and  this  for  various  reasons:  1st.  It  will  be  ample  to 
provide  for  all  the  wants  of  mankind  and  accumulate  a  jren- 
erous  surplus  for  any  exi<>'ency  tliat  may  arise.  2d.  For 
any  man  to  perform  more  than  six  hours  of  muscular  labor 
a  (hiy  will  deteriorate  the  brain  and  so  invite  immoralities 
tliat  will  do  society  far  more  evil  than  the  surplus  labor 
will  benefit;  and,  also,  more  than  six  hours  of  brain  labor 
will  deteriorate  tne  muscular  system,  disturbing  the  sym- 
metry and  harmony  of  every  part  of  the  system,  thus  dis- 
turbing conditions  necessary  to  the  best  intellectual  efforts. 
Tliere  will  then  be  little  or  no  labor  that  is  not  also  a 
pleasure.  To  a  great  extent  every  one  will  be  permitted  to 
choose  his  own  occupation  and  pursue  it  with  interest. 
The  distinction  between  amateur  and  professional  work  will 
cease.  Every  one  will  be  ambitious  to  excel  in  his  or  her 
efi'orts,  and  sham,  make-shift  work  will  afflict  the  world  no 
more.  The  idea  should  be  taught  from  early  j'ears  and 
brought  to  the  consciousness  of  the  people,  that  all  chil- 
dren are  the  wards  of  the  State  to  a  certain  extent,  for  on 
them  the  welfare  of  the  future  nation  mainly  depends. 
And  the  State  should  most  imperatively  be  required  to  fur- 
nish medical  advice  to  all  who  ax'e  raising  families.  I  have 
observed  with  pain  that  in  some  towns  it  requires  the 
wages  of  two  days'  common  labor  to  pay  for  one  doctor's 
visit  and  medicines.  Think  for  a  moment  of  a  young  man 
and  woman  of  little  means  struggling  to  rear  children  un- 
der such  conditions!  If  Jupiter  still  controlled  the  thunder 
and  had  a  particle  of  sense  of  justice,  he  would  make  the 
lightnings  flash  and  the  thunders  roll,  as  if  all  the  artillery 
of  the  world  were  exploding,  until  such  wrongs  were 
abated. 

"  One  of  the  principles  of  the  ethical  code  of  the  new  re- 
ligion  will   be,   that   population    must  resolutely  be  kept 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  125 

within  the  means  of  ]->roi)er  subsistence.  The  maxim  of  one 
of  your  great  political  economists,  that  there  is  a  constant 
teudnncy  of  population  to  outrun  the  means  of  subsistence, 
does  not  hold  good  where  reason  and  the  moral  element 
are  so  trained  as  to  induce  right  living,  unswayed  by  passion 
or  prejudice.  The  present  idea  that  a  rapid  increase  of  popu- 
hition  is  desirable  is  the  offspring  of  avaricious  greed.  The 
newspaper  man,  the  professional  man,  the  merchant,  and  the 
railn^ad  man  all  desire  customers  which  a  greater  i)opula- 
tion  may  bring;  hence  false  ideas  of  political  economy  have 
become  common,  and  habits  of  life  naturally  follow  quite 
inconsistent  with  the  highest  prosi)crity  and  moral  devel- 
opment of  the  people.  It  njust  be  kept  in  mind,  that  in  a 
true  condition  of  society  a  larger  proportion  of  ])roductive 
wealth  uiust  be  spent  in  education  and  recreative  enjoy- 
ments." 

He  continued:  "  I  have  observed  with  pain  that  in  every 
city  there  are  hundreds,  and  in  snuxll  towns  scores,  of  men 
and  women  dragging  out  miserable  lives  of  feebleness  and 
ill-health  because  their  fathers  and  mothers— good,  pious 
souls! — robbed  their  unborn  children  of  their  inherent  pat- 
rimony of  constitutional  vigor  by  overwork,  through  an  un- 
wise ambition  to  keep  up  a  certain  style  of  living  or  to 
accumulate  property.  They  attended  church  services  regu- 
larly, but  heard  no  word  of  warning  from  their  pastor; 
verily,  as  the  Hebrew  |)rophet  said  three  thousand  years 
ago,  they  were  dumb  dogs  that  could  not  bark.  They  em- 
ployed physicians  atid  ])aid  them  liberally  for  Latin  pre- 
scriptions, but  received  no  adequate  warning  from  them  in 
matters  of  most  vital  importance.  Under  the  new  religion, 
the  mothers  of  the  ra(!e  will  be  treated  more  tenderly  than 
they  have  been;  especially  by  the  struggling  classes.  The 
people  will  be  religiously  boun<l  to  ]>lace  them  in  hajipy 
surroundings,  favcn'able  to  poelic,  artistic,  and  intellectual 
exaltation,  and  most  conscientiously  to  exempt  them  from 
all  burdensome  labor  of  body  or  mind,  that  they  may  give 
their  strength  to  their  children;  for  no  education,  no 
preaching,  no  medical  treatment,  no  prisons  or  scaflblds 
can  compensate  for  antenatal  losses  and  misdirertion." 

I  asked  the  doctor  what  he  thought  of  the  climate  of  the 
United  States. 

Said  he:  "Here   is  a  matter  worthy  of   careful   consider- 
ation.    Owing  to  the  electrical,  magnetic,  and  other  subllo 


126  TIIIC    COMING    IIELIGION. 

conditions  not  understood,  there  is  a  tondenoy  to  an  undue 
development  of  the  nervous  system.  'Jliis  is  seen  in  tlie 
ominous  preeocitj  and  thin  muscles  of  children  and  the  in- 
crease of  nervous  diseases.  These  causes  are  powerful  and 
not  easily  controlled.  The  American  continent  has  been 
the  ffraveyard  of  nations.  The  Mound-huilders  have  passed 
away  and  left  no  record  but  the  earthworks  they  built  for 
some  scarcely  defined  object.  If  there  is  no  counteracting 
cause  or  balaiice-wlieel  introduced  to  correct  this  tendency, 
■when  the  fresh  currents  of  European  blood  cease  to  be 
poured  into  the  veins  of  the  people,  they  will  become  a  na- 
tion of  invalids.  The  only  adequate  renjedy  is  to  drive 
Lome  i)hysiological  i)rinciples  by  the  powerful  means  of  re- 
ligious teaching. 

"  Wlien  there  is  a  livel}'  and  sensitive  conscience  devel- 
oped ill  this  matter,  aided  by  such  discoveries  as  our  sci- 
entists shall  make,  man  will  here,  as  elsewhere,  gain  a  glo- 
rious triumph  over  the  obstacles  which  nature  seems  to 
have  thrown  in  his  way." 

I  asked  my  venerated  instructor  if  he  would  be  pleased 
to  give  his  views  of  Colonel  Ingersoll  and  his  work. 

He  replied:  "Most  willingly.  His  career  is  an  index  of 
the  times  of  great  significance.  He  is  doing  a  splendid 
work  of  a  pieliminary  character.  He  is  an  iconoclast 
breaking  the  images  the  people  have  been  so  long  worship- 
ing. He  is  blessed  with  great  eloquence,  great  personal 
magnetism,  great  talent  for  i)roiiucing  immediate  results, 
but  there  is  not  an  elenjent  of  reconstructive  force  in  his 
nature.  His  reputation  will  be  short-lived,  for  no  man 
ever  did  a  great  and  lasting  work  on  a  mere  negation.  His 
religion  of  good  dinners  and  good  cloth<^s  does  not  fill  the 
diai)ason  of  human  emotions,  human  fears,  and  human 
hopes.  Such  a  man  could  only  find  his  mission  in  the  early 
part  of  this  transition  period,  when  thousands  of  men  and 
women  have  severed  their  connection  with  the  decaying  re- 
ligion of  the  past  and  have  not  yet  reached  out  their  ten- 
drils to  find  support  in  the  far  better  religion  of  the  future. 
He  describes  with  unfaltering  audacity  the  thoughts  that 
have  long  had  their  silent  undergrowth,  but,  from  an  ex- 
cusable timidity,  have  shrunk  from  the  light  of  day.  As 
my  colleague  will  exi)lain,  the  evolution  system  has  cut  the 
tap-root  of  Mediieval  Theology,  and  Colonel  Ingersoll  is 
working  with  herculean  strength  to  sever  the    roots    that 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  127 

spread  upon  tlie  suiface.  His  work  is  to  clear  the  ground 
of  the  rubbish  and  obstruction  which  are  no  longer  either 
useful  or  ornameutal.  Others  of  equally  great  talents,  elo- 
quence, and  jjersonal  niugnetisin  will  take  up  the  work 
where  he  leaves  it;  they  will  drive  the  plowshare  deep 
through  the  virgin  soil;  augels  will  sow  the  pure  seed, 
which  will  spring  up  with  a  vigorous  growth  and  produce  a 
bounteous  crop  for  the  healing  and  nourishing  of  countless 
generations  yet  to  be." 

SISTER    ALDEBEKAN's    ADDRESS. 

"Oh,  my  sisters  of  earth!  permit  me  to  address  you  a 
few  sisterly  words.  Could  you  be  permitted  to  behold  our 
transcendent  beauty  by  the  clear  perception  of  the  inner 
mind,  as  your  speaker  has  done,  it  would  excite  your  rap- 
turous admiration;  ay,  perchance  jour  eu\y,  for  we  are 
all  human.  This  beauty  and  physical  perfecttion  is  not  a 
chance  gift,  but  has  come  through  the  opeiatiun  of  natural 
laws  and  forces  which  are  oumipresent.  True,  it  was  our 
good  fortune  to  liave  been  born  and  reared  in  a  i)lanet 
which  had  reached  the  maturity  of  its  life-bearing  forces; 
still  we  jire  iiidel)ted  to  a  long  line  of  ancestors  of  both 
sexes  who  had  religiously  obeyed  the  laws  of  henlth,  with- 
out which  such  beneficent  results  were  impossible.  Tlie 
past  cannot  be  recalled,  but  the  future  of  earth  is  all  before 
you;  permit  me,  therefore,  to  address  j'ou  a  few  sisterly  sug- 
gestions; for,  though  I  never  suffered  a  day  of  painful  ill- 
ness or  conscious  pliysical  weakness,  yet  through  the  subtle 
sympathy  of  sex  I  can  ai)i)re(i;ite  the  evils  that  have  atllicted 
you,  oh,  sisters  of  earth!  Resolve  now  to  begin  to  studj' 
and  obey  the  laws  of  health,  which  will  in  time  work  out 
inconceivjible  results  to  a  grateful  posterity. 

"Not  to  be  too  vague  and  general,  lei  me  descend  to  a 
few  salient  particulars:  Never  allow  your  clothing  to  press 
8(j  closely  on  any  ])art  of  your  person  as  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree to  im|)e(l(!  the  circulation  of  the  blood  and  the  sul)tle 
nerve-nouiishiiig  elements  it  cariies.  Kemember  that  any 
pressure  on  either  of  the  four  extremities,  by  an  inevitable 
reaction,  also  impedes  the  healthful  nutrition  of  the  brain, 
thus  incapacitating  it  to  put  forth  the  most  perfect  emo- 
tions and  ideas. 

"But,  above  all,  avoid  any  pressure  on    the  vital    organs 


128  THE    COMINfi    UI.I.KIION. 

tliJit  iii.'iy  fettfi"  tlie  lie<arfc-tlirol)H  wliic-li  sfMid  tlir;  iiourisliin;^ 
cnireiits  to  every  purt,  of  the  syHteni  (jr  wljicli  rnuy  prevent 
the  full  iiiflutioii  of  the  lniij,'s,  by  which  that  current  is  oxy- 
geniifed  witli  the  ]ife-<,Mvin<T  elements  of  the  atmospliere. 

"All  wron^i^s  of  this  kind  are  avenged  by  nerve  and  braia 
deterioration  and  all  its  attendant  aches  and  evils.  These 
snn-fTf^Htions  may  seem  trivial,  but  they  are  not  so;  for  due 
attention  to  them,  with  ap))ropriate  open-air  life,  will  eindjle 
the  oxyj^en  to  paint  your  complexion  beycjnd  the  picture  of 
the  most  skillful  artist.  It  will  also  give  to  your  nerves  a 
pleasurable  sense  of  existence  which  all  the  medicines  of 
the  world  cannot  approach.  Try  to  develop  a  reasoning 
brain  and  an  independent  character.  In  early  life  acquire 
skill  in  some  useful  industry  that  will  help  to  give  you  a 
sense  of  independence  and  be  a  refuge  in  adversity. 

"In  the  ])lanet  I  re])resent,  what  is  acce]>ted  as  the  most 
perfect  model  of  the  female  form  is  slightly  fuller  in  the 
chest  and  waist  than  your  justly  celebrated  statue  of  Ve'iius 
de  Medici.  After  mature  consideration  by  our  best  phys- 
iologists, it  was  concluded  th<it  anything  more  restricted 
would  not  give  the  vital  organs  suflficierjt  strength  to  sus- 
tain the  highest  beauty  and  meet  the  inevitable  exigences  of 
life;  and  hence  statues  of  this  model  are  ])laced  in  many 
])ublic  places,  and  even  in  sonje  of  our  reli^;ious  edifices; 
not  as  the  vulgar  lUiiy  suppose,  to  worship,  but  as  a  means 
of  culturing  a  connect  public  taste. 

"  We  are  alive  to  the  great  fact  that  the  healthful  mani- 
festations of  the  aflfectious  are  the  crowning  glory  of  a 
woman  in  all  worlds;  but  still  I  am  impelled  to  say  even 
the  sacred  affections  should  be  dominated,  directed,  and 
controlled  by  that  superior  wisdom  which  can  onl}-  come  of 
a  healthful  physique  and  the  careful  training  of  self-disci- 
pline. 

"Accept  these  sisterly  admonitions  in  the  kindly  spirit 
in  which  they  are  given,  and  you  and  posterity  will  h;ive 
occasion  to  hold  me  in  grateful  reniembrance. 

"And,  oh,  my  sisters!  allow  me  in  conclusion  to  say  the 
most  important  word  of  all,  which  may  appear  extravagant; 
but  weigh  it  well  before  you  pronounce  it  so. 

"As  to  be  the  mother  of  a  child,  healthy  and  sound  of 
body  and  mind  is  the  greate^»t  crown  of  glory  to  a  woman, 
so  to  bear  a  sickly  one  is  the  greatest  sin.  Therefore  firmly 
resolve    that,    unavoidable    exigences   excepted,    you   will 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  129 

never  bear  a  sickly,  feeble  child.  Strupfgle  to  carry  out 
tbis  heaveu-borii  resolution,  even  to  death,  knowinpf  that  if 
you  fall  in  so  holy  a  cause  you  will  till  an  enviable  niche 
a,n\o\\g  the  martyred  saints  in  the  great  temple  of  the  future 
religion  of  humanity. 

"  In  the  Cliristian  religion  God  was  said  to  be  manifested 
in  the  flesh  of  one  man.  It  is  the  aim  of  this  religion  that 
He  should  be  manifest  in  every  human  being," 

mi.    IXTUITUS'    ADDRESS. 

I  said,  Dr.  Intuitus,  what  do  you  think  of  the  material- 
ization ])henomena? 

A  dark  shade  of  sorrow  spread  over  his  expressive  fea- 
tures as  he  replied:  "In  time  they  will  be  perfected,  but 
at  present  the}'  are  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  condition.  We 
are  de{)endent  mainly  on  these  phenomena  to  convince  the 
scientists  and  materialists  of  the  continuance  of  intellec- 
tual life,  after  the  change  of  death.  Those  who  have  charge 
of  this  deparbnent  in  spirit  life  find  it  exceedingly  difficult 
to  control  the  delicate  conditions  necessary  to  produce  the 
best  possible  results.  Mediums  seem  to  be  wanting  in 
proper  training  or  destitute  of  some  qualities  requisite  to 
complete  success  in  this  matter;  and  yet  it  is  very  difficult 
to  treat  the  subject  pro])erly.  To  mediumshi[),  conscious 
and  unconscious,  the  world  is  mainly  indebted  for  pro- 
gressive impulses  and  powers  to  lift  it  to  a  higher  plane, 
not  only  in  religion  and  morals,  but  also  to  some  extent  in 
mechanical   iiiventions. 

"  Mediuiuship  is  surrounded  by  such  subtle  and  delicate 
forces,  and  is  manifested  in  such  a  variety  of  phases  that  it 
is  very  impeifectly  understood  by  the  mediums  themselves, 
much  less  by  the  world  at  large.  The  rule  holds  good  here 
that  it  is  b(;tter  that  a  hundred  guilty  ])arties  escape  than 
that  one  innocent  should  sull'er;  and  yet  it  is  painfidly  true 
that  unscrupulous  men,  from  mercenary  motives,  have 
taken  advantage  of  tlie  strong  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
people  to  see  a  palpable  demonstration  of  a  future  life  to 
perpetrate  shameful  frauds.  These  things  impose  the  nec- 
essity of  learning  to  discriminate  between  the  wortiiy  and 
the  unworthy,  the  true  and  tlie  false.  Every  banker  is 
compelled  to  learn  to  discriminate  between  genuine  money 
and  its  counterfeit;  and  the  government  is  bound  to  ferret 


130  THK    COMING    KKLKIION. 

out  tlie  guilty  parties  in  order  to  protect  the  people.  In 
onr  ])lHnet  a  class  of  professionul  experts  grew  up  to  detect 
and  expose  such  frauds.  Persons  were  treated  with  deli- 
cate consideration  while  there  was  a  doubt  of  the  character 
of  the  medium  or  his  effort.  But  when  a  man  was  found  to 
}HM  petrate  an  unscrupulous  fraud,  simulating  so  holy  and 
useful  a  power,  they  would  put  a  whip  in  the  hands  of 
every  honest  man  to  lash  Uw.  rai«:al  nnke'.d  lliroiKjJi  the  n-orld." 

I  said,  Dr.  Intuitus,  as  you  have  some  reputation  for 
being  clairvoyant  and  prophetic,  will  you  tell  us  how  long 
the  transition  period  will  continue? 

He  replied:  "You  are  in  the  early  part  of  the  period. 
By  the  end  of  this  century  the  scientists  will  have  mastered 
the  spiritual  phenomena  and  explained  their  import;  or  at 
least  they  will  have  so  raised  the  \ail  of  darkness  and  mys- 
ter3'  that  seems  to  enshroud  them  that  jirogress  will  be 
pleasant  and  rapid.  By  the  middle  of  the  next  centurj'  the 
transition  will  be  passed  and  the  new  religion  fully  estab- 
lished; for  the  human  mind  is  so  ripened  and  cultured  tbat 
more  iirogress  is  now  m.ade  in  fifty  years  than  Avas  in  three 
centuries  . -it  the  advent  of  the  Christian  era.  Then  people 
will  look  back  on  the  grand  old  city  churches  as  we  look  on 
the  ruins  of  the  ancient  temples  of  Thebes,  Ephesus,  and 
Greece,  as  mementos  of  a  faith,  once  powerful,  but  now  de- 
jiarted  from  the  earth — with  a  few  exceptions  —  mostly  in 
some  inaccessible  mountain  region,  remote  from  the  centers 
of  i)o))u]ation  and  thought.  And  as  I  see  some  pious  souls 
weeping  over  these  stately  ruins,  I  say,  '  Weep  not,  oh 
children  of  earth;  the  evolution  that  has  destroyed  these 
will  build  edifices  of  far  more  value  to  mankind.  Weep 
not;  a  religion  that  could  fruit  in  the  Crusades,  the  Massa- 
cre of  St.  Bartholomew,  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  the  horrors 
of  the  Inquisition,  a  personal  devil,  and  an  endless  hell  of 
burning  fire,  is  not  w-orth^'  of  joxxv  tears.' 

When  the  true  history-  of  this  transition  is  written,  it 
will  be  seen  that  men  and  women  have  lived  and  labored 
on  American  soil,  of  a  higher  inspiration,  and  a  deeper 
spiritual  insight  than  any  j)riest  or  prophet  that  ever  trod 
the  sacred  soil  of  Palestine;  or  any  evangelist  that  wrote 
the  sayings  or  doings  of  Jesus  Christ;  or  an}'  apostle  who 
carried  the  religion  of  a  blood-atonement  to  the  heathen 
nations  of  the  earth. 

"  I  will  now  explain   more  in   detail.     The  Eeformation 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  131 

of  the  sixteenth  century  may  be  consiilered  as  the  first  indi- 
cation of  the  approaching  change.  The  reformers  started 
with  the  princii)le  of  the  riglit  of  private  judgment,  but 
prjicticall}'  ciij^pled  its  effect  by  limiting  it  to  their  own 
book  and  creed.  If  any  one  in  the  exercise  of  his  judgment 
transcended  tijese  limitshe  was  anathema  maranatlia.  Prot- 
estantism, therefore,  being  but  a  half-work,  has  been  a 
sickly  failure;  bearing  the  seeds  of  contradiction  and  decay 
in  its  own  bosom,  it  was  foredoomed  to  a  short  life.  The 
Augshuig  and  "Westminster  confessions  of  faith  completely 
arrested  further  progress  and  growth  in  religious  knowl- 
edge, and  they  will  remain  in  history  as  sad  mementos  of 
the  danger  of  fixing  human  belief  and  investigation.  Dur- 
ing the  last  third  of  a  centuiy,  which  may  fairly  include 
the  transition  period,  two  grand  achievements  have  been 
made:  One  is  the  ability  to  comm;ind  at  will  the  scientitic 
evidence  of  a  continued  existence  after  the  dissolution  of 
the  mortal  body.  "What  has  already  ap])eaied  are  as  the 
pattering  drops  that  often  i^recede  a  copious  shower.  As 
these  phenomena  are  in  a  state  of  rapid  development,  I  will 
not  further  dwell  upon  them  here. 

"  The  other  is  the  grandest  achievement  the  inhabitants 
of  earth  have  ever  made — I  mean  the  establishment  of  the 
universal  doctrine  of  Evolution.  This  great  work  has  been 
done  njaiidy  by  the  English  and  American  scientists.  For 
the  last  third  of  a  century  many  men  whose  intellects  have 
never  been  excelled,  have  worked  with  great  anel  persistent 
industry. 

"  They  have  examined  mountains,  deserts,  continents, 
and  seas;  they  have  peered  through  telesco})es  and  niicro- 
scopes;  they  have  chipped  away  with  the  geologist's  luun- 
mer  at-  the  solid  crust  of  the  earth;  they  have  examined 
scientifically  all  the  known  forms  of  living  and  extinct  ani- 
n)al  life;  some  of  the  greatest  intellects  have  examined, 
com|)arcd,  and  analyzed  the  facts  so  obtained.  Out  of  all 
this  lias  at  length  sjnung  the  doctrine  of  Universal  Evolu- 
tion, as  the  principle  by  which  all  things  exist.  It  explains 
the  origin  of  worlds,  the  origin  and  growth  of  animal  life, 
of  governments,  religions,  s\  stems  of  philospliy,  and  every- 
thing pertaining  to  human  beings  and  conditions.  This 
universal  solvent,  the  key-note  of  the  universe;  has  at 
length,  in  spile  of  much  learned  and  religi<uis  opposition, 
won  its  way  to  scientitic  recognition,     ll  is  now  taught  in 


132  TUli:    COMING    lUCLIOIOX. 

most  collcp^es  and  universities,  and  is  lieartily  acce[)ted  by 
all  wliose  departments  pertain  to  biolo^^ical  science.  This 
brinj^ing  into  li<;-lit  the  eternal  verities  of  the  evolution  sys- 
tem has  cut  the  tap  root  of  Middle-Ape  theoloj^fy  ()y  show- 
inp;  liow  man  has  attained  his  present  status  without  the  in- 
tervention of  S|)ecial  acts  of  (rrnjition,  ors|)ecial  providences. 
It  has  also  indicated  how  a  reli<Tfi()us  system  can  be  evolved 
that  will  be  Ij.ised  on  truths  that  cjin  be  verified  scientitic- 
all}'.  AVe  should  by  no  means  despise  the  past  or  pass- 
injif  religions;  tliey  are  the  best  tlie  world  was  capable  of  at 
the  time  of  their  advent,  and  were  necessary  stages  of  the 
world's  progress.  As  well  may  tlie  new-hatched  cliick  de- 
spise the  i-g'^ — a  homo^'eneous  mass  of  albuminoid  matter 
inclosing  the  3'olk,  and  itself  kejjt  in  position  by  a  thin, 
porous  shell  of  carbonate  of  lime.  But  in  the  course  of  incu- 
bation there  comes  a  time  when  the  shell  is  no  longer  useful, 
but  must  be  got  rid  of  or  progressive  growth  will  be 
thwarted. 

"  Now  comes  the  next  stage.  During  the  remainder  of 
this  century  the  spiritual  jihenomena  will  be  examined, 
elucidated,  and  exj^lained,  and  their  relation  to  other  sci- 
ences established.  Already  two  English  scientists — Wallace 
and  Crookes,  both  Fellows  of  tlie  Royal  Society,  itself  a 
guarantj"^  of  scientific  eminence — have  ma<le  a  good  begin- 
ning in  elucidating  these  phenomena.  Frederick  Zollner, 
Professor  of  Astronomy  in  the  University  of  Leipsic,  has 
written  a  book  in  which  lie  has  endeavered  to  show  that 
there  is  a  fourth  dimension  of  space  in  which  s^iiritual  be- 
ings exist,  wholly  inappreciable  to  our  senses  These  works 
cannot  but  arouse  man}'  to  this  great  theme  For  this  w(n-k 
we  must  depend  on  our  young  men  who  have  a  life-work  to 
choose  and  a  reputation  to  achieve.  Most  of  the  older  sci- 
entists have  devoted  themselves  so  ab.sorbingly  to  the  great 
work  of  eluciiUiting  the  evolution  theory  through  that  moi- 
ety of  science  that  addresses  itself  to  (ihe  external  -senses; 
that  they  have  allowed  their  faculties  of  spiritual  discern- 
ment to  become  inactive  and  dormant.  Huxley,  perhaps 
the  greatest  living  naturalist,  said,  '  Even  if  the  spiritual 
phenomena  are  true,  they  do  not  interest  me.'  Probably 
not;  for,  notwithstanding  his  great  learning  and  ability,  be 
can  no  more  comprehend  the  contents  of  the  fourth  dimen- 
sion, than  an  unlettered  peasant  can  appreciate  the  princi- 
ples of  the   evolution   system    he  has  so  beautifully   illus- 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  133 

trfited.  Others  of  equally  jrieat  abilities  and  industry  will 
tiike  hold  of  this  work,  and  by  the  end  of  this  centmy  the 
greatest  acliieveinent  of  the  apjcs  will  be  established  —  tlie 
relation  of  the  spiritual  bpiiif^s  of  the  fourth  dimension  to 
those  s'ill  in  the  flnsli  niiide  palpable;  an<l  materialism  for- 
ever b;inished  from  the  earth.  Then  will  the  scientists  ])erceive 
the  truth  and  beauty  of  the  sayin*^  of  one  of  earth's  oreat- 
est  poets,  '  'J'heie  are  more  thiuj^s  in  heaveu  and  earth  than 
are  dreamed  of  in  your  ))hilosophy.' 

"  At  the  coinmencemeMt  of  tiie  next  century,  having 
gained  over  the  scientists,  philosophers,  and  unbiased  lit- 
erary men,  tlie  effective  braiu-i)OWer  of  any  ])eo|)le,  from 
this  coign  of  advantage  the  hosts  of  liberal  spiritualism  will 
go  forth  to  do  valiiint  battle  with  the  obstructive  power  of 
Middle-Age  theology;  conscious  of  a  final  victory.  The 
jiiincipal  strength  of  an  obstructive  theology  lies  in  its 
wealth.  Vast  amounts  have  been  invested  in  church  e<H- 
fices  and  theological  schools,  and  on  your  earth  money 
is  ))ower.  Money  making  men  of  no  m'>re  spiritual  discern- 
ment tlian  the  gohlen  j^od  they  woi-ship,  will  continue  to 
give  to  sustain  this  moribund  religion.  Like  most  other 
lights  of  the  church,  they  can  see  what  is,  but  cannot  dis- 
cern the  far  more  glorious  temples  yet  to  b^  in  the  coming 
religion  of  humanity.  They  repeat,  parrot-like,  Paul's  say- 
ing, '  The  thin;,'s  that  are  seen  are  teujporal,  but  the  things 
that  are  unseen  are  eternal,'  and  know  nothing  of  its  tre- 
mendous power  and  import.  The  new  religion,  having 
passed  the  middle  of  tiie  transition  period,  will  have  gained 
such  a  ])ower  of  momentum  that  notiiing  can  resist  it. 

"  Peojde  will  look  back  in  amazement  that  a  religion, 
based  neither  on  fact,  philosophy,  nor  pnictical  moralitj', 
could  have  prevailed  so  many  centuries  after  the  human 
mind  became  awake  to  scientific  progress,  mechanical  in- 
vention, and  industrial  enierprise.  It  was  not  fouiuled 
upon  a  fact,  but  on  the  myth  tiiat  its  founder  was  a  sui)er- 
luitural  being  (hegotten  by  the  third  peison  of  the  trinity), 
a  uiyth  so  easily  claimed,  so  impossible  of  proof.  Not 
founded  on  philosophy,  because  it  claims  to  be  ])roved  by 
miracles,  thus  flying  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  uniformity  of 
nature's  laws  and  proc^esses  —  the  principle  that  renders 
science  possible  aiul  valuable;  not  based  upon  practical 
morality,  because  the  vilest  murdeier,  who  sends  his  victim 
—  with  all  his  sins  unannealed  —  to  endless  torment,    may 


134  THE    COMIMi     HKLKIION. 

himself  g'o  directly  to  a  lieaven  of  ondless  happiness  by  the 
mere  profession  of  faith  in  this  relijj;ion. 

"  The  pfrtat  work  of  bolli  phihjsf)pliers  and  ])hilanthro- 
pists  is,  to  rid  tlie  world  of  tlie  terrible  incubus  of  a  reli^'ion 
that  has  stood  in  square  opposition  to  science  throujifh  all 
these  centuries  of  liuman  progress,  and  trembled  at  every 
imijortant  achievement. 

"  After  tlie  advent  of  the  twentieth  century  the  teachers 
of  mediseval  theoloji^y  Avill  cease  to  be  respected.  Men 
of  talents  will  avoid  the  professioti,  and  men  of  inferior  cali- 
ber can  only  jiresent  a  feeble  barrier  to  stay  the  rising  tide 
of  human  })rogress.  When  the  people  see  how  they  have 
been  misled  and  deceived,  the  accumulated  wi'ongs  of  cen- 
turies of  false  teachings,  will  burst  fortli  in  a  storm  of  uncon- 
trolhible  indignation  toward  the  clergy  which  will  overstep 
the  bounds  of  propriety.  The  capacity  of  the  English  lan- 
guage will  l)e  taxed  to  the  utmost  in  invective,  sarcasm, 
and  denunciation.  They  will  o])enly  accuse  them  of  njoral 
and  intellectual  ])rostitution.  Tljey  will  refuse  to  be  ap- 
peased until  the  teachers  of  the  coming  religion  show  them 
that  the  clergy  themselves,  as  well  as  the  people,  are  the 
victims  of  a  false  religion,  which  originated  iu  the  undevel- 
oped condition  of  the  human  mind  in  the  barbarous  ages  of 
the  distant  past. 

"  I  see  in  the  distance  a  grand  struggle  for  the  American 
people,  such  as  the  world  has  never  seen — one  that  will  in- 
volve the  question  of  the  life  and  death  of  republican  lib- 
erty. Many  will  be  forced  to  take  positions  which  were  at 
first  distasteful  to  them — even  as  they  have  had  to  in  strug- 
gles already  past.  I  do  not  propose  to  discuss  this  topic  in 
detail  iu  this  lecture,  reserving  it  for  a  future  address. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  struggle  M'ill  not  be  short,  but 
sharp  and  terribly  decisive.  A  power  that  has  no  l)usiness 
on  the  American  continent,  as  a  power  wielded  by  a  foreign 
potentate,  will  be  crushed  forever  b}'  the  hosts  of  human 
libert}'.  The  votaries  of  this  power  are  far-seeing,  eager, 
contident  of  success;  exceedingly  fond  of  power  and  pos- 
sessed of  the  best  religious  organization  the  world  has  ever 
seen  for  the  accumulation  and  conservation  of  power.  And 
be  assured  they  aim  at  nothing  less  than  the  entire  subju- 
gation of  the  American  republic  to  their  uses  and  purposes. 
While  they  are  determined  and  steady  in  their  aim;  the 
others,  though  greatly  in  the  majority,  are  indeterminate. 


THE    COMING    RELIGION.  135 

scattered,  antagonistic,  and  totally  destitute  of  a  well- 
grounded  religious  polity — and  seetn  likely  to  remain  with 
a  ruinous  indiflerence  until  the  horrors  of  the  impending 
conflict  drive  them  to  an  appreciation  of  the  circumstances 
that  surround  them,  and  the  dangers  that  threaten  them. 
As  these  things  progress,  the  inherent  weakness  of 
Protestantism  becomes  apparent.  It  becomes  so  plain  that 
the  densest  mind  can  no  longer  ignore  the  potent  tact  that 
the  Bible  on  which  it  is  founded,  i)eing  full  of  errors,  was 
simply  the  product  of  the  human  intellect,  like  other  books. 

"  They  are  compelled  to  perceive  that  there  are  but  two 
sides  in  this  conflict;  that  they  must  go  back  and  join  the 
power  from  which  their  forefathers  parted,  or  go  forward 
and  join  the  hosts  of  progressive  liberty.  Some  from  con- 
servative motives,  will  go  back,  but  will  lie  uneasily  in  their 
chosen  bed. 

"  When  the  people  have  taken  sides  there  will  come  a 
time  when  it  must  be  decided  which  power  will  control  this 
government;  a  long-impending  crisis  will  at  length  come,  and 
as  has  hap})ened  before,  the  party  in  the  wrong  will  throw 
down  the  gage  of  battle,  and  the  other  party  will  be  forced 
to  take  it  uj)  or  submit  ignoniiniously  to  lose  everything 
that  makes  life  valuable.  As  heretofore,  the  hosts  of  dark- 
ness will  gain  some  important  victories;  this  will  only  serve 
to  unite  firmly  tlie  hosts  of  liberty — they  will  fear  that  his- 
tory may  repeat  itself;  the  shrieks  of  the  victims  of  !St.  Bar- 
tholomew will  pierce  their  ears,  and  they  will  hear  the 
clanking  of  the  implements  of  the  Inquisition.  Then  the 
tide  of  battle  will  turn,  and  every  move  will  hasten  and 
compel  the  total  destruction  of  the  great  obstructive  2)Ower 
on  the  American  continent.  When  the  victory  is  won  and 
the  smoke  of  the  conflict  clears  away,  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  new  religion  and  the  new  state  will  interblend  their 
harmonious  forces  like  my  fingers,  one  supjjorting  the 
others. 

"  Then  it  will  be  perceived  that  true  religion  is  some- 
thing more  than  an  abstraction;  that  on  earth  it  requires 
an  institution  to  express  itself  through,  even  as  a  spirit  re- 
quires a  body;  that  it  is  a  living,  vital  force,  indispensable 
to  conserve  the  morals  necessary  to  sound  government  and 
wholesome  society.  The  new  religion  having  triunq)hed 
over  its  foes,  outgrown  its  childish  weaknesses,  and  p<'tty 
sects,  hunuinity  will  enter  on  its  long  njillennium  of  pros- 


136  THK    COMING    RELIGION. 

perity  nud  liapjiiness  Lcj-ond  the  jjower  of  tlie  ])resent  ^en- 
erutiou  to  conceive.  So  great  will  be  tlio  irnprnvejnent  of 
society  that  war  will  cease,  prisons  will  be  cliaiifred  into 
manufactories,  and  asylums  to  palaces  of  arts  and  scientific 
research.  Here  and  there  a  church  may  be  found  of  those 
who  think  that  Adam  and  Eve  were  created  perfect,  and 
the  golden  age  lies  in  the  distant  past;  these  will  linger 
like  winter  in  the  lap  of  spring,  or  a  glacier  pushed  down 
to  the  very  verge  of  the  fruiling  vineyards." 


^-^^^^r?^^ 


Experience  with  Spirits 

-FDR  R— 

Quarter  of  a  Century, 


On  tlie  first  of  October,  18G0,  I  landed  in  New  York  from 
nearly  a  mouth's  sea  voyage,  including  tlie  Isthmus  tran- 
sit. Those  who  have  not  experienced  something  of  the  kind, 
can  scarcely  realize  the  pleasure  and  mental  exhilaration 
felt,  after  being  pent  up  in  a  crowded  ship  for  twenty  daj's, 
on  reaching  one's  native  shore.  So  boisterous  was  the  ex- 
pression of  this  in  songs,  jokes,  laughter,  and  the  like,  on  the 
night  preceding  the  landing  that  sleep  was  impossible.  For 
nine  years  I  had  led  a  rough  life  in  California,  banished 
from  the  pleasures  of  what  in  older  commanities  we  call 
society. 

I  had  a  strong  desire  to  investigate  for  myself  the  phe- 
nomena of  modern  spiritualism.  I  liad  seen  nothing  but 
table-tii)ping,  which  was  unsatisfactory  because  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  determine  how  much  unconscious  muscular  action 
and  cerebration,  might  be  mixed  witli  the  psychic  force  in 
producing  the  results  seen. 

I  landed  on  Saturday,  and  on  Sunday  I  attended  a  spirit- 
ual lecture,  at  the  close  of  which  it  was  announced  that 
there  would  be  a  seance  the  next  evening,  naming  the  street 
and  number.  I  was  an  entire  stranger  to  nearly  ever}'  per- 
son in  the  city,  and  on  inquiring  if  strangers  were  admitted 
was  told  they  were  on  i^ayment  of  twenty-five  cents.  Ac- 
cording to  intention  I  went,  not  expecting  to  participate 
further  than  to  be  a  looker-on.  I  found  about  a  dozen  men 
and  women  sitting  around  an  extension  dining-table  in  a 
doul)le  parlor;  otliers  were  sitting  about  tlie  room.  The 
medium,  Mrs.  Malone,  was  sitting  at  the  end  of  the  table. 


138  EXPKIilENTE    wrni    SI-IICITK. 

I  took  a  seat  at  the  table;  soon  tlio  njedium  Ijecame  en- 
tranced and  seemed  to  personate  some  one  dyin;^  of  con- 
sumption— seemed  to  have  a  liackiiig  cougli  and  was  dis- 
tressed for  breath.  This  was  wholly  novel  to  me,  but 
seemed  not  to  be  to  others;  some  lowered  the  window  to 
relieve  the  distress  of  the  medium,  while  one  and  another 
inquired,  "  Is  it  my  spirit  friend?"  About  a  year  before,  a 
brother  had,  in  common  parlance,  died,  and  also  ten  years 
previous  another.  As  was  natural,  my  mind  was  fixed  on 
the  one  who  had  died  recently. 

To  all  other  inquiries  the  medium  shook  her  head  and 
motioned  her  hand  toward  me.  1  arose  and  took  it  and  in- 
quired, "Is  this  George  V"  She  shook  her  head  and  took 
her  watch  out  of  her  belt,  and  laying  it  in  her  left  hand 
pointed  to  it  with  her  right  forefinger.  I  thought  I  de- 
tected brother  Matthew's  expression  of  features  on  her  face, 
but  of  this  I  might  be  mistaken.  But  as  he  had  been  a 
jeweler  and  worked  wath  watches,  the  watch  feat  convinced 
me  and  I  said,  This  is  Matthew.  She  nodded  assent.  I 
then  addressed  him  and  said:  "  Have  you  anything  further 
3'ou  wish  to  communicate?"  The  medium  took  a  pencil 
and  paper  and  wrote,  "I  have  exhausted  the  medium  in 
making  myself  known;  at  another  time  I  will  answer  all 
your  questions." 

When  a  miner  strikes  the  color  or  a  few  cents  to  the  pan, 
he  follows  it  up  hoping  to  find  a  rich  lead;  accordingly  I 
called  on  the  medium  the  next  day,  and  she  passed  into  a 
trance  and  I  conversed  for  an  hour  with  that  brother,  as  if 
face  to  face,  talking  of  matters  pertaining  to  our  previous 
life  unknown  to  any  person  in  the  city.  I  inquired  how 
spirit  life  compared  with  the  earth  life?  He  said  it 
was  far  superior  and  inexpressibly  glorious,  but  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  give  me  an  adequate  idea  of  it  then. 
I  have  since  thought  that  some  unhappy'  circumstances  of 
his  earth  life  ma}'  have  had  something  to  do  with  his  feel- 
ing in  estimating  the  two  conditions.  To  say  that  I  was 
convinced  of  the  fact  of  spirit  existence  and  communion 
and  was  greath-  delighted,  is  but  a  feeble  expression  of  my 
state  of  mind. 

A.  E.  Horton,  of  San  Diego,  whose  acquaintance  I  made 
at  the  hotel  where  I  was  stopping,  told  me  of  a  man  wiio  was 
an  excellent  writing  medium,  who  gave  seances  every  week 
at  his  house  as  an  amateur,  and  made  no  charge  for  his  ser- 


EXPERIENCE    WITH    SPIRITS.  139 

vices,  and  offered  to  introduce  me  to  biin  without  giviug 
my  name  so  as  to  help  to  get  a  test.  I  gladly  accepted  the 
offer.  I  found  him  a  plain  man  of  about  fifty,  who  worked 
a  farm  in  the  vicinity.  At  the  sitting,  among  others  he 
wrote  a  letter  addressed  to  me,  and  signed  the  name 
of  the  aforementioned  brother,  Matthew  Allyn.  This 
letter  was  in  a  handwriting  that  resembled  that  of  in}^ 
brother,  but  in  a  marked  degree  the  idiomatic  expressions 
were  his,  and  also  capital  letters  were  used  ofteuer  than  is 
common,  which  was  a  habit  with  him.  I  kept  the  letter 
ten  years,  and  then,  at  her  request,  sent  it  to  his  oldest 
daughter,  then  married  to  Tiiomas  Ogden  of  Wellington, 
.Ohio. 

The  spirits  urged  me  to  engage  in  lecturing,  to  promul- 
gate the  fact  and  philosophy  of  spirit  intercourse  with 
mortals.  After  visiting  my  friends  in  Ohio  I  did  so,  giving 
some  twenty  lectures,  wading  through  snow,  mud,  and 
sleet  to  till  my  appointments.  Twenty  years  later  on  visit- 
ing that  part  of  the  country  I  found  some  good  spiritualists 
as  fruits  of  my  humble  and  unsupported  labors.  The  pre- 
monitory mutterings  of  the  civil  war  were  then  thick  in  the 
air,  and  I  reluctantly  concluded  that  the  public  mind  was  too 
much  excited  with  approaching  troubles  to  be  easily  inter- 
ested in  supra-mundane  affairs.  My  labors  and  exposure 
to  a  climate  more  severe  than  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
caused  a  severe  sickness,  in  the  spring  while  in  New  York. 

AN    .\PPARITION    AND    WHAT    CAME    OF    IT. 

In  March,  18G1,  I  went  to  Dr.  Jackson's  water  cure  near 
Dansville,  in  western  New  York.  I  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  I  must  soon  return  to  California.  Six  months  had 
passed  and  I  had  met  with  no  one  who  seemed  quite  adapted 
to  be  my  companion  for  the  balance  of  life's  journey.  I 
was  about  to  turn  my  back  upon  every  relative  I  had  in  the 
world  and  put  the  Kocky  mountains  and  two  thousand 
miles  between  me  and  them.  I  realized  what  every  intelligent 
person  must  know,  that  at  that  period  California  was  a  poor 
place  to  find  a  wife.  I  felt  lonely  and  sad.  It  seemed  that 
a  crisis  in  my  fate  had  arrived,  and  I  felt  that  it  was  not 
good  to  be  alone.  At  this  time  the  apparition  of  a  lady  ap- 
peared dressed  in  Quaker  drab.  I  knew  not  either  the  cause 
or  significance  of  this  visitor.     I  soon  went  to   New  York 


140  EXPEUIENCE    WITH    SI'IKITS. 

city  with  its  half  a  milliou,  witli  scarce  an  excei)tiou  stran- 
gers to  me.  I  soon  met  the  lady  represented  by  said  vision 
and  knew  her  on  sig'ht.  We  were  married,  and  on  our  way 
to  California  early  in  June,  while  the  soldiers  were  gather- 
ing for  the  great  struggle  for  union  and  liberty. 


WHAT    OCCUUREl)    OX    THE    PASSAGE. 

Contrary  to  my  expectations,  the  steamer  was  crowded  with 
about  a  thousand  passengers,  some  fleeing  from  impending 
trouble.  On  the  passage  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Vic- 
tor Smith,  a  fellow-passenger,  with  a  commission  in  his 
pocket  as  Collector  of  Customs  for  Puget  Sound  district.  I 
told  him  I  had  spent  several  years  there  and  knew  some- 
thing of  the  climate,  country,  and  people.  He  said  the  au- 
thorities wished  to  ascertain  what  the  actual  cost  of  keeping 
the  patients  at  the  Marine  Hospital  was.  They  had  been  kept 
on  contract  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day  each,  and  he  thought 
there  was  a  great  profit  at  that.  He  said  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  let  the  contract  at  a  fixed  sum,  with  a  verbal  agree- 
ment to  return  to  the  government  all  but  a  fixed  salary. 
He  wished  to  find  some  reliable  man  to  undertake  this.  Be- 
fore the  end  of  our  voyage  he  oft'ered  me  the  position  which 
I  accepted,  and  faithfully  carried  out  the  project,  and  re- 
turned in  one  year  over  four  thousand  dollars  to  the  gov- 
ernment in  its  time  of  sore  need.  My  position  was  no  sine- 
cure; in  fact,  the  care  and  labor  Avere  too  much  for  my  slen- 
der constitution,  and  for  this  and  other  causes  I  left  at  the 
expiration  of  the  terms  of  the  contract,  and  went  to  Vic- 
toria to  improve  some  property  I  had  there.  I  continued 
until  the  winter  of  186J:  when  it  seemed  necessary  to  find  a 
place  on  American  soil  for  permanent  settlement.  I  had 
some  doubt  whether  to  go  to  Seattle,  then  a  mere  hamlet 
in  the  wilderness  ;  or  to  Oakland,  California,  a  suburb  of 
San  Francisco,  of  two  thousand  inhabitants.  Again  my 
spirit  friends  came  to  my  assistance  and  decided  the 
matter  by  this  couplet: 

"  Make  your  home  under  tlie  oak  tree's  shade 
And  not  under  that  by  the  pine-tree  made." 

I  did  so.  Oakland  grew  rapidly,  and  m^'  little  investment 
proved  a  small  bonanza  which  has  since  been  a  refuge  and 
solace. 


EXPERIENCE    WITH    SPIRITS.  141 

The  question  may  arise  here,  Will  sjiiritsbelp  us  to  make 
money  ?  My  experience  and  observation  lead  me  to  the 
conclusion  that  if  our  motives  are  pure,  and  we  desire  means 
to  enable  us  to  do  good,  we  may  attract  a  highly  developed 
class  of  spirits  who  may  help  us  to  accumulate  property; 
but  if  our  motives  are  siraplj'  to  aggrandize  ourselves  and 
outshine  our  neighbors,  the  class  of  spirits  we  will  attract 
ma}'  mislead  us  to  serious  loss.  I  could  give  many  in- 
stances to  illustrate  this. 


SLATE-WUITING. 

For  eight  years  I  have  occasionally  had  slate  writings  by 
some  force  unknown  to  science,  signed  by  some  spirit  friend. 
The  best  were  had  this  year  by  the  mediumship  of  Mrs.  C. 
L.  Reid,  between  two  slates  which  I  saw  washed  off  clean 
and  a  bit  of  pencil  put  between.  I  could  hear  the  writing 
distinctly.  I  wrote  questions  on  slips  of  paper,  folded  them 
up  closely,  and  laid  them  on  the  slates,  which  I  held  in  my 
two  hands.  Tlie  questions  were  perfectly  answei'ed,  and 
three  ticks  of  the  pencil  indicated  that  the  writing  was  fin- 
ished. On  opening  them  they  were  filled  with  writing 
in  a  plain  hand.  The  first  slate  was  signed  "Mother,"  ex- 
pressing great  pleasure  at  having  such  an  opportunity  to 
communicate.  The  next  slate,  in  a  different  style,  gave  a 
medical  prescription,  some  good  advice,  and  closed  with  this 
original  verse: 

"  Millions  and  millions  of  ages  shall  roll, 
Progression  eser  the  theme  of  your  soul; 
By  heanty  and  grandeur  your  soul  shall  he  led, 
And  worlds  witiiout  nuniher  your  spirit  shall  tread." 

— Sirt'ilcii/ion/. 

I  wish  to  say  that  in  1867  I  spent  six  months  in  lectur- 
ing on  spiritualism  through  Sonoma,  Napa,  Santa  Cruz,  and 
Sacramento  counties,  which  was  a  labor  of  love  but  not  of 
j)rofit.  I  have  seen  materializations  and  dematerializations 
once;  but  do  not  wish  to  particularize,  as  I  did  not  have  an 
opportunity  to  repeat  the  sitting  so  as  to  study  it  maturely. 


Poems, 


ELECTION    RHYMES. 


To  Doctor  Glenn, 
I  said  amen — 
Anil  took  it  back, 
But  still  dill  lack — 
The  votes  to  go 

To  Sacramento. 

(ilenn  and  I  two  horses  rode. 
Along  the  dry  and  dusty  road, 
But  we  alike  were  badly  thrown, 
Before  the  office  found  its  own. 

We  daV)blcd  in  the  filthy  pool. 
And  soiled  our  garments  like  a  fool. 
And  yet  we  were  a  wretched  tool — 
To  help  the  R"s  to  Sacramento. 

And  now  Macvay 

Has  gained  the  day — 

He  will  also  have  his  say  ; 

And  railroads  too  will  still  bear  sway, 

And  Chinamen  will  karn  to  pray — 

And  stock  sharps  have  another  day — 

And  we  big  taxes  still  must  pay. 

And  Pellet,  too,  has  lost  the  race. 
Although  upon  the  wiiniiug  pace — 
And  up  Salt  river  he  must  sail, 
And  like  poor  Rachel  he  must  wail. 

And  now  the  voting  all  is  over. 
We'll  take  a  sail  up  the  Salt  river. 
And  farmer  White  will  there  appear— 
And  farmer  Gardner  in  the  rear. 


POEMS. 


143 


Had  bilks  ami  chivs  joined  Fanner  White, 
The  outcome  would  liave  lieen  all  right — 
They  would  have  saved  the  Golden  State, 
And  next  year  reached  the  ^\'hite  House  gate. 

But  now  that  splendiil  chance  is  o'er— 
They  ne'er  will  reach  the  White  House  more. 
Because  they  put  up  Doctor  Glenn, 
And  I,  alas,  did  say  amen. 

— N^oveniher,  li>78. 


THE  MAIDS  OF  ST.  HELENA. 


To  call  one  maid  divinely  fair 
When  hundreds  more  are  blooming  there, 
With  grace  and  beauty,  rich  and  rare: 
It  may  be  true,  Init  scarce  is  fair. 

True,  St.  Helena's  massive  mountain. 
And  Calistoga's  steaming  fountain, 
O'erlook  a  valley  none  surpasses 
Kor  stalwart  men,  and  l)onny  lasses, 
For  Mowers,  and  vines,  and  lovely  grasses. 

On  the  left  is  Howell  Mountain, 

From  whose  breast  springs  Conn  creek  fountain 

And  wild  cascades  can  there  Ije  found, 

Witli  rainbows  painted  on  the  ground. 

On  the  ri^dit  Mt.  Henry  stands, 
Whose  twin  peaks  overlook  fair  lands, 
>\nd  all  the  serrate  riilgc  along, 
Would  claim  a  mention  in  a  song. 

Tiie  vineyards  on  the  rounded  hill 
Instinct  with  lovely  beauty;  still 
The  vineyards  on  the  level  plain, 
And  waving  fields  of  golden  grain, 

Sliould  surely  take  a  poefs  eye. 

And  not  be  passed  so  coldly  by. 

So  over-praise  is  iiardly  fair, 

When  hosts  of  girls  are  blooming  there. 

—June  1,  1S80. 


144 


LINES. 

AddrcBScd  to  Judge  and  Mrs.  W.  A.  Haekin,  nt  their  Ooldeu  Wedding. 

By  JoH.i  Allyn. 

Wlicii  tliis  okl  century  was  young, 
Cupid  liis  arrows  widely  Hung, 
Until  at  length  his  honeyed  darts, 
Reached  their  aim  and  pierced  your  hearts. 

Fiftj'  eventful  years  have  come, 
4^ince  your  young  hearts  found  a  home: 
Fifty  pregnant  yeais  have  lied, 
Since  at  tlie  altar  you  were  wed. 

Full  fifty  years  of  wedded  bliss, 
Are  rare  in  such  an  age  as  this; 
When  courts  are  facile — laws  are  loose, 
And  often  slips  the  marriage  noose. 

We  greet  yon  here  with  song  and  story; 
Although  your  hea<ls  are  sliglitl}'  hoary. 
Your  love  is  bright  and  unabated, 
As  when  your  young  hearts  first  were  mated. 

With  this  world's  goods  not  over-blest. 
Like  Greeley's  young  man,  you  went  west: 
The  placers  of  our  Golden  State, 
Allured  you  to  j-oiir  happy  fate. 

Six  months  you  toiletl  through  dust  and  rain. 

This  promised  paradise  to  gain: 

Unlike  some  Western  men,  I  reckon. 

You  saved  your  scalps,  but  liot  your  bacon. 

And  as  the  wild  Sierras  crossed. 

And  fragrant  pines  their  branches  tossed, 

The  imi>nlse  of  the  vernal  wood 

Gave  you  health  and  moral  good. 

'Twas  thus  in  eighteen  fortj'-nine, 
In  woman's  glory,  manhood's  prime; 
Our  sunny  skies  and  fruitful  soil. 
Rewarded  all  your  weary  toil. 

And  when  yon  viewed  fair  Napa's  plain, 
Y'ou  wisely  said,  "We'll  here  remain;" 
Go  'round  the  world — 'tis  surelj-  truc^ 
You  will  not  find  a  fairer  view, 
Nay,  if  yon  search  the  realms  of  space, 
You'll  scarcely  find  a  better  place. 


POEMS.  145 

One  ilauylitei-  fair, 
Of  Ijcauty  rare, 
Among  the  rest. 
Your  home  has  Ijlest. 

Seven  sons  still  live  to  call  you  blest. 
And  you  have  faith  that  all  the  rest 
Live  in  a  world  of  greater  bliss 
Than  the  most  happy  can  in  this. 

Your  grandchildren  wlio  still  survive. 
Count  up  at  least  full  tliirty-live: 
And  if  your  children  live  and  tlirive, 
They'll  swarm  like  Ijees  in  summer  hive. 

Wheneartidy  joys  can  charm  no  more, 
And  Charon  Uindly  rows  you  o'er. 
Your  faith  is  firm  that  on  that  shore 
You'll  there  be  mated  evermore; 

That  as  you  join  the  angel  throng, 

And  countless  ages  roll  along, 

Y'^our  love  will  glow  still  unaliated. 

As  when  your  youthfid  hearts  were  mated. 

—Nocernlier,  1S70 

Tbe  eftbrt  was  a  happy  one,  and  its  good  bits  were 
heartily  enjoyed  and  applauded  by  tbe  audience,  and  tbe 
Doctor  was  fintlier  rewarded  by  a  bouquet  from  a  fair 
admirer. — St.  Helena  Star. 


i^TNA  SPRINGS  (California). 


The  jagge<l  peaks  and  rmimU'd  niount.s 
Look  out  (in  .-l^tna's  healing  founts: 
In  every  little  dell  around, 
Lovel}'  evergreens  abound. 

Ozone  is  brought  by  every  breeze 

That  comes  from  pine  and  healing  trees, 

And  every  rising  sun  we  see 

With  silver  sheens  the  lone  pine  tree. 


14()  POKMS. 


Under  tlio  wliite  oak's  sprcc'KliDg  Iwuglis 
We  waU'li  tlie  turn  of  tlie  i>olishc<l  plows, 
VVliilu  trees  upon  tlieslopinj^  liill 
Tlie  finest  sense  of  beauty  thrill. 

Tlie  moonshine  nights  and  lively  jokes 
Makes  lovers  young  of  wedded  folks: 
Music  floats  on  the  balmy  air, 
Inspiring  each  eager,  waiting  pair 
To  serve  the  goddess  Terpsicliore, 
Till  ten  o'clock — and    sometimes  more. 

The  lowing  kine  come  home  at  night, 

To  fill  the  buckets  foaming  white; 

The  ranch  gives  grapes,  so  fresh  and  sweet. 

And  other  fruits  to  cook  and  eat, 

The  lame  can  walk,  the  blind  can  see, 

The  old  are  filled  with  joy  and  glee. 

—  October,  ISSO. 


THE  AMERICAN  FLAG. 

Lines  read  by  Dr.  Allyn  at  the  political  meeting,  November,  1880. 

That  flag  now  floats  a  nation  o'er, 
And  there  'twill  float  for  evermore; 
Surviving  foenian's  shouts  and  jeers — 
It  waved  above  the  loyal  cheers. 

Let  the  nation  speak  in  thunder  tones, 

Echoing  from  plains  to  mountain  cones — 

He  who  tights  against  that  flag,  or  trails  it  in  the  dust. 

Never  shall  an  office  hold,  or  any  post  of  trust. 

Full  fifty  millions  free  and  brave 
Live  where  this  splendid  banner  waves, 
And  boys  and  girls  are  now  alive 
Who'll  see  a  hundred  million  thrive. 

Let  Europe's  teeming  thousands  come 
To  find  with  us  a  happy  home, 
The  a>gis  of  its  ample  folds 
Protects  the  land  and  all  it  holds. 

The  flag  that  led  the  loj-al  hosts 
Now  floats  in  triumph  through  our  coasts; 
'Twill  save  the  people  brave  and  pure. 
While  stars  shall  shine  or  sun  endure. 


POEMS.  147 

The  flag  that  hiavetl  a  Imiuhed  j'cars, 
Tlirougli  l)attle  spark,  througli  rel>el  cheers, 
Sliall  hold  tlie  Union  most  secure 
While  moon  shall  last  or  sun  endure. 


POEM. 

On  the  TeutU  Anniversary  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  G.  B.  Crane's  Wedding 

By  Dr.  John  Allyn. 

Two  Pioneers  of  great  ambition 
Sought  ample  fields  for  hope's  fruition — • 
You  climbed  tiie  rugged  hill  of  life 
With  otlier  liusl)aiul,  other  wife — 
Both  wci'c  lured  by  science  and  art; 
Both  took  the  good  Samaritan's  part. 

The  Doctor  plied  tiie  Ivealing  art, 
With  equal  skill  and  kindly  heart; 
Not  given  to  work  for  paltry  ]ielf. 
He  failed  somewhat  tu  "  heel"  himself. 

But  when  you  reached  life's  summit's  crest. 
You  found  you  were  not  wholly  blest. 

Cheerless — and  lonely — the  prospect  seemed 
And  life  with  petty  troubles  teemed. 

Love  opened  up  a  splendid  vision 
And  showed  you  boundless  fields  elysian — 
Love  adds  a  cliarni  to  nature's  beautj'. 
And  lightens  all  the  patlis  of  duty. 

Thus  on  life's  summit  there  you  stand, 
Witli  heart  to  heart  and  hand  to  iiaud; 
And  l)eing  joined  with  silken  tetlier 
Descend  tiie  shady  slope  togetiier. 

Society  an<l  hosts  of  frieiuis 

And  angels  shout  tlieii'  glad  aniens; 

True  hospitality  abounds. 

Plenty  and  peace  your  home  has  crownc<l. 

In  tlie  sweetest  vale  of  all  the  earth 
Tiie  liride  was  cheered  by  a  blazing  hearth, 
Plenty  of  books  whose  ample  pages 
Conserved  the  lore  of  all  the  ages. 


148  POEMS, 


As  if  l)y  Minl.iiii's  inajj;ic  spoil, 
This  liouso  was  raist-d  so  nice  ami  well; 
IJiit  still  tliu  lnaitli  anil  books  are  found; 
Like  Bancjiio's  gliost — tliey  will  not  down. 

.Science  now  moves  with  ia])id  stride 
And  ancient  landmarks  seem  to  slide — 
Better  this  decade  passed  away 
Than  stupid  leons  of  Cathay. 

HeM  work'd  for  temperance  all  his  life, 
Nor  etill  gave  up  the  noble  strife; 
If  Christ  made  wine  at  Cana's  feast, 
He'd  try  the  "  rabbit  patch  "  at  least. 
If  we  only  had  jiure  wine  enougli, 
It  would  save  from  Hoods  of  viler  stuff. 

The  once  foi'l)idding  gi'avel  land 
Has  smiled  beneath  your  skillful  hand: 
Witli  wealth  your  efforts  have  been  crowned, 
And  generous  charities  abound. 

And  now,  dear  friends,  this  wedding  eve, 
Love's  tribute  here  your  neighbors  leave. 
May  heaven  your  blessings  still  increase, 
And  guide  you  to  the  realms  of  peace. 


DECORATION  DAY,  1882. 
For  the  St.  Helena  celebration.    By  Dn.  Joes  Alltn. 

^Yhere  rest  the  <lead  heroes,  once  valiant  and  brave, 
The  Hag  of  our  Union  forever  shall  wave 
Over  each  of  our  soldiers'  well-honored  grave. 

On  this  our  nation's  holiday, 
Let  patriotic  zeal  l)ear  sway ; 
And  far  as  smiling  peace  is  found. 
Let  pure  fraternal  love  abound. 

Rest,  soldier,  in  your  hallowed  grave  — 

Your  country's  warfare  now  is  o"er; 
No  cannon's  roar  w  ill  face  tiie  lirave — 

The  drum's  roll-beat  will  call  no  more. 

No  bugle's  blast  will  wake  from  sleep 
And  dreams  of  home  or  child  and  wife. 

Again  to  ]iaiiiful  vigils  keep, 
Ur  enter  into  deadly  strife. 


149 


No  (l^'ing  groans  will  pierce  the  air, 
Or  wouuile<l  comrade  vvritlie  in  )iain  ; 

Where  curses  mingle  \\ith  the  prajer 
Of  him  who  ne'er  will  pray  again. 

Your  souls,  we  trust,  will  hover  round 
And' smile  serene  from  viewless  air; 

As  choicest  Howers  strew  the  ground, 

Whose  fragrance  is  your  country's  prayer. 

All  lionor  to  our  soldiers'  name — 
Naught  shall  disturb  their  well-earned  fame; 
They  fought  for  you,  they  fought  for  me, 
And  countless  millions  j'et  to  be. 

The  pomp  of  war  did  not  allure  them— 
The  press-gangs  rough  diil  not  procure  them  : 
Their  country  called,  and  they  obeyed, 
And  simple  duty  they  essayed. 

Some  left  their  aged  parents'  side ; 
iSome  left  a  blooming,  weepin^bride  ; 
Some  served  three  years,  to  tlien  return, 
And  some  were  laid  beneath  the  uin. 

Go  search  through  history's  blood-stained  page, 
Through  every  land,  througli  every  age — 
No  warring  host  that  fac<-d  each  other. 
Where  brotlier  often  fought  with  brother — 
So  strove  where  mind  and  cnncience  blended, 
Until  the  fearful  contest  ended. 

Grim-visaged  War  then  smoothed  his  front. 
And  smiling  peace  resumed  her  wont; 
And  as  the  loyal  work  was  endeil 
Each  hero's  way  was  wended  — 
Took  up  the  tangled  thi-ead  of  life, 
And  strove  to  comfort  child  and  wife. 

The  circumstance  of  glorious  war 
Had  lost  its  charm  ;  they  ilid  abhor 
The  tctlious,  frati-icidal  strife — 
Once  more  adoring  civic  life. 

'Othello's  occupation  's  gone,' 
Now  this  great  land  is  joined  in  one," 
\\'as  heard  throughout  this  matchless  nation, 
Without  its  tragic  intonation. 

It  makes  no  tlilTercncc  with  the  brave, 
A\'hcther  alive  or  in  the  grave; 
One  character  pervades  them  all. 
High  or  low,  great  or  small. 


150 


Tlic'ir  ineiiiory  will  iicvor  iicrir*!!  — 
'J'lic'ir  fdiiie  a  jjiatft'iil  laii(l  will  ciierish 
Kar  as  the  eagle's  piiiioii.s  spread 
Is  li()iii!ij,'L'  to  the  nati(jii's  dead. 

Their  spiiits  haunt  tlie  hazy  iiiouiitaiiis, 
And  glide  about  the  si)arkling  fonntains; 
The  smallest  rill,  the  mightiest  river, 
Floios  miii;//uiij  irilh  their  iri-(iilhs fori-rir! 

And  praise  the  Blue  full  high  you  may — 
A\'e  i)ass  no  sentenee  on  the  (!rey  ; 
Leave  them  with  coiiscienee  and  with  (Jod, 
As  all  are  left  beneath  the  sod. 

Let  all  dead  issues  of  the  past 
No  longer  live,  no  longer  last; 
Live — in  the  living  present  live — 
To  future  hopes  your  efforts  give. 

Let  all  unkindness  and  all  hate 
Lie  buried  deep  as^opeless  fate: 
No  resurrection  give  it  life, 
To  ripen  in  fraternal  strife. 

Prosperity  shall  smile  forever 
O'er  hill  and  lake,  o'er  plain  and  river; 
Science,  high  art  and  education 
Shall  lift  and  bless  each  occupation. 

The  water  dancing  from  the  hill.s 
Shall  serve  unnumbered  cotton  mills; 
The  Mississippi  safe  shall  flow 
Between  strong  dykes  from  Cairo. 

The  yellow  fever's  dreaded  scourge 
Shall  disappear  within  our  verge  ; 
Malarious  districts  shall  be  sweet, 
And  produce  anijjly  bread  and  meat. 

Our  grand  Sierra's  snowy  crest 
Shall  overlook  a  land  most  blest ; 
The  water  from  a  thousand  rills — 
From  purling  streams  along  the  hills — 
Shall  fertilize  the  terraced  grouiul. 
Where  fruit  and  wheat  and  vines  abound. 

Then  the  Angel  of  Peace  shall  utter  from  far. 
Our  trium])hs,  0  man,  are  far  better  than  war! 
Save  but  the  result  that  the  slaves  were  made  free. 
And  the  Union  preserved  for  their  grand  jubilee. 


POEMS,  151 


Let  patriotic  zeal  bear  swaj' 
On  tliis  our  Decoration  daj' ; 
And  far  as  lovely  j^eace  is  found. 
Let  iiure,  fraternal  love  abound. 


IN    MEMORIAM.      JAMES    L.    RIDGELY,    1881. 

Road  at  his  fuueral  celebration  l>y  St.  Heleua  Lodge  I.  O.  O.  F. 

His  useful  life  was  quite  complete, 
AVith  works  of  love  it  v^■as  replete  ; 
\Vu  mourn  not  that  lie's  gone  before, 
Tiie  loss  is  ours,  his  gain  is  more. 

The  sympathetic  tear  will  fall 
For  family,  friends,  and  brothers  all. 
His  spirit  leaves  the  worn-out  clay 
To  seek  the  realms  of  endless  day. 

The  first  decade  our  order  knew, 
Our  brother  was  most  firm  and  true. 
Through  struggles  of  each  late  decade 
His  laurels  bright  will  never  fade. 

Our  history  he's  written  well  ; 
To  latest  ages  it  will  tell — 
How  from  the  germ  of  early  years 
It  triumphed  o'er  its  foes  and  fears. 

Ambitious  schemes  were  laid  aside; 
Mis  faithful  work  will  long  al>ide. 
Cities  unbuilt  will  love  him  well, 
And  countless  hosts  his  goodness  tell. 

Odd  Fellows  will  forever  cherish 
His  memory  ;  'twill  never  perish. 
In  distant  isles  liis  works  al)ound  ; 
Li  foreign  climes  thej-  'le  also  found. 

California's  sunny  plain. 
And  her  ])iles  of  golden  grain, 
From  her  vineyards,  l)right  and  green  ; 
From  tiie  Sierra's  silvery  sheen  ; 

From  jagged  peaks  and  rounded  hills. 
From  giant  trees  and  murmuring  rills  ; 
From  silver  mines  with  golden  grains. 
From  Nevada's  sage-brush  plains  ; 


152 


From  tlio  moiiiitaiii.s  and  tlie  moorland, 
From  ricli  prairies  and  from  woodland  ; 
From  great  cities,  commerce-laden, 
Come  heart  tribute,  all  unbidden. 

His  fame  will  rise  from  sparklinj^  fountains, 
And  eciio  from  tlie  lofty  mountains; 
Great  lakes  will  catcli  tlie  oiiwai-d  strain, 
And  waft  it  o'er  the  ocean's  main. 

Our  Order  spreads  from  State  to  State, 
And  has  become  both  strong  and  great ; 
Our  banner  Hoats  in  foreign  climes, 
And  will  go  down  to  latest  times. 

The  news  was  spread  from  shore  to  shore  ; 
Our  brother "s  earthly  toils  were  o'er. 
The  sad  word  all  our  brothers  reaches, 
Will  ponder  well  the  lesson  teaches. 

Ridgely  has  joined  the  lodge  above, 
Of  fadeless  beaut}%  purest  love. 
To  sing  of  fiiendship,  love  and  truth, 
With  joyful  life  and  fadeless  youth. 

His  earthly  work  at  Itngth  is  done  ; 
His  second  life  is  now  begun  ; 
Ou  that  bright  shore  he  will  progress  ; 
Sages  and  saints  his  spirit  bless. 

Good  works  on  earth  will  be  his  jo}'; 
No  earthly  cares  will  there  annoy  ; 
Di.stress  relieved  and  orphans  blessed, 
Will  sootlie  his  soul's  sereuest  rest. 


REPUBLICAN   CAMPAIGN   SONG,   1882. 

By  John  Allyn. 

Republicans  now  have  a  man 
Triumphantly  to  lead  the  van, 

While  we  march  on  to  victory. 

The  Democrats  must  now  be  led 
By  an  official  ligure-head, 

As  we  march  on  to  victory. 

The  workman's  "rest  and  recreation" 
Will  then  be  safe  from  desecration. 
When  we  march  on  to  victory. 


POEMS.  153 

No  gree<ly  soulless  corporation 
Can  tlien  ineveiit  the  recreation. 
Of  toiling  millions  yet  to  be. 

The  railroad  power  now  dread  the  iiour 
When  Moiris  Estee  conies  to  power, 

To  tone  down  tiie  freights  and  fares. 

No  more  will  they  discriminate 
Against  the  struggling  of  our  State, 

Wlien  we've  marched  on  to  victory. 

M.  Estee  is  the  coming  man. 
And  foes  can  beat  him  if  they  can, 
While  we  march  on  to  victory. 

Stoneman  will  surely  fail  again, 
As  he  did  in  days  of  yore,  when — 
Siiei'Mian  marclied  unto  the  sea. 

I  beg  that  you  will  all  i-emember 
The  seventh  day  of  next  November, 
P^or  tlie  figure-head 
Will  then  be  dead, 

And  Estee  be  our  governor. 


WOOLEN  WEDDING  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  H.  E.  ALDEN. 

By  D«.  J.  All,v^. 

In  tlie  roaring  loom  of  time 
Some  wool  is  coarse,  and  some  is  fine, 
Ami  in  fabrics  made  or  bougiiten 
The  wool  is  often  mixed  with  cotton. 

This  symbols  forth  our  morfci!  life, 
Where  purest  love  is  marred  by  strife  ; 
But  who'd  abide  life's  hard  conditions 
If  sweetened  not  by  love's  fruitions"' 

For  ten  long  years  in  town  and  grove 
You  reveled  in  unwed<lcd  love — 
A  lengthy  courtship,  it  would  seem, 
But  (piickly  passed  in  love's  young  dream- 
Then  found  a  far  more  grand  ideal 
In  wedded  life  amid  the  real. 
10 


154 


The  briile  was  raised  with  Quaker  |>eoj)le, 
Who  like  tlie  chureh,  Imt  not  the  .stee|>le- 
Both  plain  of  dross,  ami  plain  of  sj)eech, 
They  very  seldom  overreach. 

But  Quaker  drab  could  not  control 
The  tastes  of  an  iesthctic  soul ; 
The  highest  art  of  niodern  dress 
That  taste  alone  could  well  express. 

Two  children  blessed  your  wedded  love; 
Alice  is  iiere-and  one  al)ove. 
Say  not  that  you  have  '  loved  and  lost,' 
For  when  the  border  you  have  cnjssed, 
You'll  see  her  bloom  with  angels  bright, 
In  boundless  love  and  purest  white. 

From  farthest  East  to  utmost  West 
You  sougiit  prosperity  and  rest. 
Prosperity  has  blessed  j'our  store, 
And  given  promise  of  mueii  more. 

Accept  our  kind  congratulations  : 
We  wish  au.spicions  cunstellation.s. 
These  lines  express  no  lofty  pai'ts. 
But  simple  tribute  of  oui-  hearts. 


SONG   OF   HOPE. 

By  John  Allyx. 

The  jagged  peaks  and  rounded  mounts 
Look  out  on  .^i^tna's  healing  founts. 
And  every  little  dell  around 
With  lovely  evergreens  abound — 
And  all  the  smooth,  bald  ridge  along. 
Deserves  a  mention  in  our  song. 

The  red  deer  range  upon  the  hill. 
And  tufted  quail,  at  their  sweet  will ; 
And  as  the  wooded  mount  we  cross. 
And  giant  trees  their  branches  toss, 
The  impulse  of  the  vernal  wood 
Will  give  ns  health  and  moral  good. 

Upon  the  smoothly  polished  floor 
We  serve  the  goddess  Terpischore 
'Till  ten  o'clock,  and  sometimes  more  ; 
And  every  morning  sun  we  see 
With  silver  sheens  the  lone  pine  tree. 


155 


On  Sunday,  if  we're  so  inclined, 
We  seek  some  loftier  good  to  find— 
Incjuire  our  being's  end  and  aim, 
Aud  whence  this  Ijreathing,  vital  frame. 

Why  so  much  sin  and  suffering  here  ; 
Why  life  is  oft  so  dull  and  drear  ; 
Our  anchor,  Hope,  so  often  lifted. 
As  o'er  life's  stormy  seas  we're  drifted  '! 

When  Meeting  hreath  we  cannot  keep, 
Shall  we  repose  in  dreamless  sleep. 
Or  shall  we  find  a  fairer  shore, 
Where  sin  and  suffering  are  no  more? 

Or  will  a  few  be  highly  blest 
To  view  the  torture  of  the  rest? 
Can  sympathy  become  quite  dead. 
And  think  of  thi^  witiiout  a  dread? 

Though  sol\  e  these  problems  as  we  maj', 
Tliey  vanish  witii  the  working  day  ; 
The  path  of  duty  still  is  cleai'. 
And  love  remains  to  bless  and  cheer. 

Now  lift  our  souls  to  orbs  of  light, 
Which  sparkle  in  the  dome  of  niglit; 
Though  space  is  boundless,  still  'twill  .seem 
That  law  and  order  reign  supreme. 
Sliall  moral  chaos  curse  us  here, 
Anil  splendid  order  reign  up  there? 

The  household  nursery  is  a  place 
Almost  devoid  of  gentle  grace  ; 
The  s-tronger  boys  will  tyrants  play, 
And  gentler  sisters  must  obey  ; 
'i'iic  iilace  a  v<'!y  bfdlani  seems, 
I)isturliing  grandiia's  liiippy  dreams. 
While  fun  and  fiolic  rule  tiie  hour 
Tiieie's  constant  growth  to  niaidy  power  ; 
Muscle  and  nerve  now  have  tlieir  day 
Where  moral  truth  may  yet  bear  sway. 

If  cartli  is  but  the  \estil)ule 

Of  great  Natuie's  training-school, 

^\'lu■re  spirit  works  through  brain  antl  muscle, 

(Jaining  strength  with  every  tussle  — 

If,  )iassing  from  this  ]iiimal  school. 

We  find  enjoyment  there  the  rule — 

That  jnsticj,  truth,  and  love  prevail. 
Ami  wiong  an<l  hate  cannot  assail  ; 


156  I'oiiMs. 

The  ,"  rai.son  iTc'tre"  may  appe;!!' 
To  us  poor  sinners  lingering;  liere. 
The  chain  of  being  is  complete 
From  microscopic  wriggler  iieie 
To  serapli  in  tlie  upper  spliore. 

Tlie  soul  tiiat  leaves  the  worn-out  clay 
To  seek  the  realms  of  fairer  <lay, 
Will  scarce  be  left  without  a  gimli- 
To  aid  it  through  the  ethereal  tiile. 
But  v\hereS()e'er  a  home  they  Hud, 
They'll  surely  leave  the  road  beliiml. 
Having  grasped  liis  new-found  treasure, 
And  sated  «ith  supernal  pleasure, 
•Some  sympathy  might  still  be  found 
For  those  who  walk  this  solid  ground — 
The  place  which  gave  him  primal  birth — 
The  little  globe  yclei)t  the  earth, 
Still  might  claim  some  small  attention. 
And,  perchance,  some  intervention. 

But  how  to  reach  them — there's  the  rub. 
For,  from  circumference  to  the  hub, 
Men  seek  tlieir  profit  or  their  pleasure 
In  earnest  work — or  earnest  leisure. 

Men  send  their  thoughts  unfelt,  unseen, 
Through  oceans"  deptiis,  o'er  mountains  sheen. 
If  zinc  and  copper  l)atteries  seive, 
Why  not  more  perfect  brain  and  nerve 
Convey  bright  thoughts  from  higher  sphere. 
To  light  our  groping  darkness  here  ': 

Some,  alas,  witii  truth  will  say, 

We've  sought  this  thing  for  many  a  day. 

And  found  that  fraud  blocked  up  the  way  ; 

AVe  paid  our  dollar,  saw  the  sight. 

And  then  passed  on  in  doubtful  light. 

So  silver  mines  were  worked  by  frauil. 
And  stocks  spread  ruin  all  al)road  ; 
But  silver  mines  still  yield  their  treasure 
To  purchase  bread  and  \)&y  for  pleasure  ; 
So  grains  of  truth  maj'  yet  be  found 
"Mid  heaps  of  chaff  and  hollow  sound  : 
The  luinest  seeker  sure  may  tind 
A  healing  Vialm  for  troubled  mind. 


-Jidji  15,  JS82. 


'  I'OKMS.  157 

DEMOCRATIC    DIRGE. 


Hail  Miigli.sli  ponied  up  the  tin, 
"J'is  sail  ti)  think  wliat  mij^ht  have  been  ; 
We  might  have  savcil  the  Hoosier  State, 
And  tlius  escaped  our  wretched  fate. 

Had  we  got  up  a  glorious  boom, 
It  would  have  fixed  ])oor  GarfieUVs  doom. 
The  first  campaign,  way  down  in  Maine, 
Proved  to  us  a  dreadful  bane. 

We  caught  in  Weaver's  warp  and  woof. 
When  we  should  iiave  stood  aloof; 
Money  we  wanted;  all  the  same. 
Hard  or  soft,  it  was  our  game. 

The  tariff  was  a  local  thing. 
If  voters  to  us  it  would  bring. 
We  threw  an  awful  sight  of  mud, 
But  to  the  cause  it  did  no  gooil. 

H;iiiiuni  sold  us  to  the  deil. 
And  IK)  comiiuin'tiiin  seemed  to  feel. 
Our  souls  ill-  gri]i])ed  as  in  a  vice. 
And  then  \\ithheld  the  pleasant  price. 

We  only  gained  the  golden  State, 
Just  to  seal  poor  Terry's  fate; 
And  now,  alas,  the  White  House  door 
We  ne'er  shall  enter  any  more  ; 
Nevermoie,  nevermore. 


-Nonmlx  r,  ISSU. 


The  " fjem "  of  tlie  evciiino-  wns  (lie  following  original 
poem  re.'id  by  Dr.  Allyn  in  his  usual  clear  and  forcible 
style.  At  the  unanimous  request  of  the  club  the  Doctor  has 
permitted  us  to  ))ul)li'<li  tlio  same,  which  we  here  insert  — 
Si.  Hrlnni  Shtr. 

THANKSGIVING  HYMN. 
Head  at  St.  H«'lpiia  Kcmlint,'  Clnl).  Novoinbi-r.  1882. 

Tiiou  Power  Sujireme  of  all  the  ages, 

That  guides  and  rules  the  flight  of  time, 

Dindy  perceived  I)}'  seei's  aiul  sages 
Deign  to  inspire  this  humble  rhyme. 


158 


'J'lif  ofh.H  tliat  roll  tliioiigli  lioiiiiclloss  apace 
And  twinkle  in  tlie  dome  <jf  night, 

Maj'  teacli  onr  souls  some  gentle  grace 
And  till  our  licartH  with  thanks  and  light. 

.Some  worlds  abound  with  lurid  fire, 
No  sentient  thing  can  iireathe  or  live; 

Some  sputter  still  with  seething  mire 
But  lowest  forms  of  life  can  give. 

We  thank  the  Power  of  Life  Supreme, 

Our  lot  is  cast  in  latest  ages, 
Tiiough  all  the  i)ast  seems  l)ut  a  dieani 

As  back  we  turn  great  Nature's  pages. 

Species  in  countless  hosts  abound 
Who  greatly  fear— oi-  truly  love  us, 

We"re  lord  of  all  beneath — around, 
And  only  angels  still  above  us. 

We're  thankful  that  our  lot  is  cast 
Where  Freedom's  soil  is  unpolluted, 

No  despot's  band  the  State  lias  grasped 
And  manhood's  joys  are  undiluted. 

We  bless  Thee  that  our  lot  is  cast 
To  reap  the  noblest  fruits  of  Time, 

If  we  but  learn  from  all  the  past 
To  make  humanity  sublime. 

We're  grateful  that  within  our  border 

(ientle  peace  now  smiles  serene. 
And  ever}  where  are  law  and  order. 

And  brightest  ho[  es  spring  fresh  and  greeu. 

No  pestilential  deadly  scourge 

Fills  our  land  with  woe  and  mourning; 

No  unruled  pas.sicpus  seethe  and  surge, 
The  people's  hearts  to  strife  returning. 

With  rapturous  joy  our  hearts  o'erHow 

That  worship  now  is  free  as  air. 
No  persecution's  demon  blow 

Can  blight  the  budding  tlowers  of  prayer. 


Our  grateful  hearts  witii  thanks  abound 
That  through  our  glorious,  happy  land, 

Good  education  now  is  found 

To  foster  truth  with  lilnral  hand. 


POEMS.  159 


Wf  Idess  tlie  Power  of  Life  Sublime 
That  tield  and  forest,  stream  and  glen, 

Abound  with  clioicest  fruits  of  time 
To  satisfy  the  needs  of  men. 

And  on  this  l^ilj^riins'  festal  day 

Whether  the  sky  be  brigiit  or  murky. 

Whatever  else  we  do  or  say, 
We're  truly  thankful  for  the  turkey. 


ANNIVERSARY   CELEBRATION   OF   ST.    HELENA 
LODGE,    I.    O.    O.    F. 

By  John  Allyn. 

On  this  anniversary  meeting 

Of  Odd  Fellows"  joyful  greeting, 
From  aged  sii-e  to  Hery  youth 

We  sing  of  "Frienilship,  Love,  and  Truth." 

Imagination's  soaring  wing, 

(.)r  fancy's  high  estiietic  taste, 
.Might  tempt  sulilimer  themes  to  sing. 

Still  all  might  prove  a  dreary  waste. 

Wliile  others  seek  tiie  bauble  fame. 

And  wear  their  lives  out  for  a  name. 
Our  souls  shouhl  stri\'e  to  rise  abo\c 

And  live  for  Fricndsliip,  Truth,  and  Love. 

We  place  no  chains  on  human  tliought, 

For  mind  is  never  to  be  l)ou>{ht; 
Believe  and  vote  j\ist  as  you  will — - 

Cherish  fraternal  friendshiii  still. 

We  ve  constantly  increased  our  store; 

We've  scattered  inucli — but  gathered  more; 
All  in  prosperous  days  must  give, 

Tliat  sweetest  charity  may  live. 

W^hen  husbands  [)ass  the  mortal  border. 

Widows  have  cause  to  bless  our  Order ; 
Our  orphans  we  nuist  educate  - 

Visit  tile  sick— their  pains  abate. 
Relieve  distress  wherever  found, 

Our  dead  we  place  beneath  tlie  ground. 


160 


TliiH  Lodge  lias  kept  these  inaxiiiis  well 

As  all  our  liistoiy  will  tell — 
rrosperity  lias  .siiiilerl  serene, 

And  brightest  hopes  spiing  fresh  and  green. 

Thirteen  years  this  lodge  has  flourished ; 

Full  ninety  nieniliers  it  has  nourished 
In  pleasant  honds  of  love  fraternal, 

And  li-t  us  hope  they'll  prove  eternal. 


-January  .?0,  1S83. 


HALF   A   CENTURY  AGO. 

(Supplement  to  the  Barkhamsted  Reiuiuisceuces,  No.  Twenty. Two.) 
By  John  Alltn. 

Sweet  strawberries  grew  on  the  meadow  sandy. 

And  for  roving  boys  they  wei-e  very  handy, 

And  under  the  grass  along  the  hill, 

A  hungry   hid  could  find  his  till. 

I've  boen  where  writers  ever  boast, 

Along  the  famed  Pacific  coast. 

That  berries  ripen  through  the  year — 

Although  the  hills  are  brown  and  sere, 

Though  large,  luscious,  and  red-   but  still 

The}-  were  sweeter  far  on  my  native  hill. 

Along  the  giand  Pacific  slope 

Where  salmon  to  river  fountains  grope — 

Where  the  darkly  speckled  native  trout 

Came  spying  in,  and  darting  out    - 

But  the  sweetest  trout  that  ever  I  took 

With  small  scoop-net,  or  l)arbed  hook, 

Were  caught  in  the  pools  of  Beaver  brook. 

The  little  brown  school-house  on  tine  gi'een 

Will  never  lose  its  charming  sheen. 

And  school-mates  I  ah  !  most  have  gone  before, 

I  trust  to  find  a  brighter  shore. 

And  my  teachers?  I  learn  that  some  still  live, 

And  may  they  enjoy  what  God  can  give. 

Not  far  away  is  a  water-worn  page. 
Nature's  record  of  the  great  Ice  Age — 
I  filled  my  pockets  with  arrow-heads, 
Rifled  from  the  makers'  native  bed. 
That  tell  of  a  race  that  have  long  since  fled. 


— iv.>J. 


POEMS.  161 

SONS   OF    BARKHAMSTED. 


From  Litchfield  county  has  gone  forth, 
The  {(I'eatest  preacher  of  tlie  earth  : 
For  fiction  of  the  moral  cast, 
H.  B.  Stowe's  was  ne'er  surpassed. 

Barkhamsted's  sons  are  scattered  wide. 
From  the  Hudson's  swelling  tide, 
To  where  the  surging  breakers  roar 
Along  the  grand  Pacific  shore. 

In  New  York's  busy  marts  of  trade 
Some  solid  fortunes  have  been  made, 
Though  tricks  of  trade  are  .ilenty  there; 
Some  ^^  ere  made  upon  the  Sfjuire. 

The  broad  Ohio's  teeming  soil 
Was  settled  by  our  sons  of  toil ; 
III  (,'hicago"s  moral  cit}' 
Dwell  our  people,  wise  and  witty. 

And  richer  prairies  farther  west 
Have  been  highlj'  tilled  and  blessed, 
By  native  sons  of  vale  and  hill 
Who  (Jdd'.s  great  jiriiiial  law  fulfill. 

'J'licy'vc  grasped  tlie  elements  of  wealth, 
And  had  an  eye  to  schools  and  health — 
The  lumber  pines  of  Minnesota, 
The  unrivaled  wheat  fields  of  Dakota. 

The  cotton  on  the  Mexitjue  main, 
The  c:ittle  on  the  'I'e.vas  i»lain  — 
The  silver  mines  with  golden  sands, 
And  California's  matchless  lands. 

Of  learned  men  a  goodly  share 
Have  had  their  birth  and  training  there : 
Doctors,  lawyers,  judges,  preachers. 
From  Richardson  to  Amos  Beecher. 

One  genius  liigh,  of  talents  rare. 
With  common  men  beyond  compare. 
Who  sought  to  unfold  a  new  religion — 
To  fipen  clear  to  morhil  vision 
From  sor<lid  earth  to  highest  heaven  ; 
The  prophet  Joel  honor  won. 
Excepting  in  his  native  town. 


1G2 


()t  all  tlif;  iiKMi  of  tivlcnt  rare 

Whose  memory  will  linger  there, 

One  rhyming  l'o(rt  stands  alone, 

Though  long  since  pii.s.-eil  to  his  long  home. 


TO    MISS    MARY   L.    HART. 


This  we  sjvy  of  Barkhanisted  towu, 
It  has  no  great,  or  wide  renown — 

A  land  of  meailows,  rocks  and  hills 
Of  timber  trees,  and  water  mills. 

But  these  rugged,  sterile  mountains, 
Burling  rills,  and  sparkling  fountains. 

Have  nourished  men  of  sterling  worth, 
And  women  bright,  the  salt  of  earth. 

Its  history  was  fading  fast, 

And  swift  receding  to  the  past — 

Oblivion's  gulf  would  soon  receive 
All  that  we  know,  or  e'en  believe. 

Our  heroine  then  gave  her  Hart 
To  act  the  true  historian's  part —  ' 

This  history  in  every  part 

Will  honor  both  her  head  and  heart. 

The  dark  clouds  of  a  troubled  day 
Her  cheerful  spirits  drive  away; 

She  in  her  constant  happy  mood 
Forgets  herself  for  others'  good. 

Her  dark  and  glossy  curling  hair 
Denotes  the  genius  sleeping  there; 

Her  darkly  bright  and  sparkling  eyes 
And  light  comple.xion  do  likewise. 

Dear  friend,  continue  on  your  work. 

You  seldom  falter,  never  shirk. 
Your  memory  we  all  hold  dear. 

Though  silent  long,  you  need  not  fear. 

The  monument  you  now  uprear 
To  manj'  thousands  will  appear, 

When  zinc  and  marble  fade  and  rust — 
Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust. 


163 


THE   SPARKLING    RAIN. 

By  John  Allys. 

The  parched  rieUls  cry  rain,  more  rain. 
Wlien  shall  we  feel  its  patter  again? 
Tis  here,  "tis  here,  the  glorious  rain. 
The  thirsty  fields  are  moist  again. 

The  rain,  the  rain,  the  sparkling  rain. 
We  hail  with  joj'  its  patter  again. 
By  it  tiie  banker  counts  his  gain, 
By  it  the  farmer  grows  his  grain. 

The  cattle  roaming  on  the  hill, 

Now  can  crop  a  generous  till 

Of  luscious  grass  bedecked  with  Howers, 

And  grapes  will  hang  from  maidens'  bowers. 

The  ships  of  ocean  shall  have  their  freight 
Of  wheat  that  is  plump  and  full  in  weight. 
For  the  rain,  the  rain,  iias  come  again. 
And  merchants  now  can  count  their  gain. 

The  rain,  the  rain,  the  sparkling  rain, 
We  hail  with  joy  its  patter  again. 
It  i)rings  us  wealth,  it  l>rings  us  life, 
With  choicest  blessings  it  is  rife. 

By  it  we  see  the  rainbow  of  hope, 
By  it  the  doors  of  plenty  we  ope. 
The  rain,  the  rain,  the  welcome  rain. 
We  are  thankful  tu  hear  its  patter  again. 

Soon,  warm  and  fine,  the  sun  « ill  shine. 
To  rii)en  and  sweeten  our  rui>y  wine. 
'Tis  good  for  the  sick,  'tis  good  for  us  all. 
If  only  we  heed  kind  nature's  call. 


.Uio-'h,  ISS4. 


CAMPAIGN    LINES. 

Rtatl  at  St.  Helina.  October,  1S84. 

'I'he  Democratic  cau<e  is  weak, 
Their  standard-bearer  still  moie  weak. 
The  inert  mass  they  try  to  leaven 
By  principles  that  count  uj)  seven  — 


164  roEM.s. 

Five  small  loaves  and  two  small  Hsiies, 
Their  utmost  hopes— their  ardent  wishes. 
The  toiling  voters  may  compete 
With  heavy  laden  merchant  fleet, 
Freighted  with  Europe's  and  Asia's  toil, 
Our  manufactories  to  despoil. 

The  dudes  are  few  and  growing  scarce. 
Ashamed  of  such  a  wretched  farce ; 
Too  pure  at  first  to  vote  for  Blaine, 
They  sickened  quite  at  Cleveland's  fame. 

The  <ludes  of  York, the  dudes  of  Yale, 
Soon  will  morn,  and  weep,  and  wail. 
To  see  their  free-trade  notions  fail. 

The  Irish  vote  will  be  divided 
Because  they  have  not  been  pi'ovided — 
Many  will  \  ote  for  James  G.  Blaine 
For  taking  the  lion  by  the  mane. 
They  like  to  hear  him  rave  and  roar. 
Now  they're  far  from  Albion's  shore. 

Butler  will  help  our  cause  along 
By  taking  off  the  cranky  throng. 

Repulilicans  are  crowned  with  glory, 

Long  will  they  live  in  song  and  story. 

And  for  a  giand,  inspiring  slogan 

We've  statesman  Blaine  and  soldier  Logan. 

Our  postal  service  is  far  better; 

From  two-l)its — to  two  cents  a  letter. 

We've  built  three  roads  from  shoie  to  shore, 

And  capital  will  build  us  more. 

In  finance — Utopia's  beau-ideal. 

Our  statesmanship  has  made  the  real — 

Greenbacks  and  bonds,  silver  and  gold. 

All  are  at  par  where  goods  are  sold. 

We  give  to  settlers  an  ample  farm 

To  save  from  want  and  add  home's  charm. 

We've  saved  united  this  great  nation, — 

Raised  every  slave  to  freenuvn's  station. 

Our  cause  is  strong — our  leaders  stronger — 

And  we'll  hold  the  fort  a  little  longer. 


POEMS.  165 

TO    DR.  AND    MRS.   G.  B.  CRANE. 
Read  at  Mrs.  Crane's  Kose  Parly,  November  If.,  1883.    By  Db.  John  Alltn. 

IvO.ses  bloom  in  great  variety, 

But  never  cause  tlie  least  satiety; 
The  last  rose  of  summer  is  ever  in  mind. 

But  roses  of  winter  to  us  are  more  kind. 

The  rose  by  itself  for  beauty  ne'er  lacks, 

But  your  taste  prefers  it  trimmed  with  smilax; 

W'e  speak  not  of  tliat  which  they  call  a  Hower, 
Though  seen  in  your  sweet  home  bower. 

The  roses  of  war,  destruction  and  hate, 

Are  names  that  cover  a  terrible  fate; 
The  rose  we  love  is  a  rose  of  Peace, 

Which  sweetly  will  bloom  when  all  wars  cease. 

Roses  of  art  may  play  a  fine  part 

In  finishing  milliner's  goods, 
Though  always  in  bloom,  thej'  shed  no  perfume. 

And  so  are  but  partially  good. 

Wild  roses  bloom  Ijy  murmuring  streams 

Where  the  suu  shines  down  in  broken  beams; 

Tlieir  petals  are  .sparse,  and  rougii  and  rude 
Where  no  fair  helping  hands  intrude. 

Of  cultured  roses  there's  emlless  variety; 

To  name  and  describe  with  strict  propriety. 
Would  take  niore  paper  and  ink  and  time 

Than  can  well  be  spared  to  this  brief  rhyme. 

Tile  rose  that  all  are  praising 

Ls  our  generous,  gentle  hostess, 
Tliis  may  appear  amazing 

P>ut  is  said  without  a  boast. 


FOR    THE    GOLDEN    WEDDING   OF    MR.  AND    MRS. 

ARETAS    HARDY. 

By  John  .Allyn. 

When  this  old  century  was  now. 

Bright  Cupifl's  arrows  «  ildly  Hew, 
Until  at  length  liis  hurried  darts 

Reached  their  aim-  -and  pierced  your  hearts. 


166  POEMS. 

Ill  Maine's  piiineval  forest  mountains, 

And  from  lier  pure  and  spaikling  fountains, 

Two  gentle  purling  streams  lir)\ve(l  on 
Until  tliey  both  were  joined  in  one. 

Like  the  synil)olic  living  river, 

Tliey  will  thus  flow  on  forever. 
All  this  i.s  but  a  sjnibul  chosen 

Of  tiiese  two  hearts  thus  joineil  Ijy  heaven. 

In  Indu.stry*  the  bride  was  reared, 
And  industry  slie's  always  shared; 

Siie  always  was  lioth  hale  and  hearty, 
But  marriage  made  her  still  more  Hardy. 

You've  lived  at  liome  always  together 
In  sunshine  bright,  and  stormy  weather; 

^'ou  \\  ere  so  loving  and  true-hearted. 
You've  only  been  (juite  briefly  parted. 

Your  hap])y  home  one  son  has  blessed, 
Three  lovely  daugiiters  you've  caressed. 

Two  are  still  on  the  hither  shore, 
And  one — not  dead,  but  gone  before. 

Of  grandchildren  you've  half  a  score, 
And  may  expect  unnumbei-ed  more; 

They're  all  a  comfort  to  your  age, 

Whose  namts  would  grace  this  rliythmic  page. 

Fifty  full  years  of  wedded  bliss 
Are  rare  in  such  an  age  as  this. 

When  courts  are  facile,  laws  are  loose, 
And  often  slip  the  marriage  noose. 

Tliree  score  years  you've  spent  in  Maine, 
The  native  place  of  statesman  Blaine; 

A  rugged  clime  of  mount  and  glen. 
Prolific  most  of  noted  men. 

In  California's  genial  clime 

Full  si.Ktcen  years  you  passed  like  rhyme; 
In  Napa's  vale  you  dwelt  awliile, 

And  left  too  soon  foi-  city's  wile. 

Old  age  is  coming  on  apace. 

And  soon  you'll  close  your  earthly  race. 

The  mysterj'  of  coming  years 

May  bring  you  joy  unmixed  with  tears. 

*  Industry  is  the  name  of  tlie  town  where  the  bride  was  born. 


1G7 


And  now,  good  friends,  this  weilding  eve 
Witli  you  love's  offerings  iiere  we  leave; 

May  choicest  blessings  still  increase, 
And  smooth  your  patli  to  blessed  peace. 


TWO    ASPECTS    OF    NATURE. 
Written  for  the  Literary  Club  bj-  John  Ai.lyn. 


I. 

In  this  world  of  (.'volutioii, 
With  now  and  then  a  revolution. 
Success  is  never  luiite  complete. 
And  failure  is  w  ith  hope  replete. 

Could  we  scan  tlie  inmost  being. 
And  our  envious  self-love  freeing, 
We  should  fin<l  the  great  and  good 
Were  only  partlj'  understood. 

With  outward  signs  of  wealth  and  state, 
And  iionors  heaped  upon  the  great, 
Lurk  grov'ling  passions,  doubt  and  gloom, 
Awaking  fears  of  coming  doom. 

Who  gathers  riches,  adds  to  care, 
And  often  weaves  his  soul  a  snare; 
His  hai)piness  is  often  seeming, 
His  fears  and  trouble  f)ften  teeming. 

II. 

Of  those  who  fall  out  by  tiie  ways. 
And  scarcely  live  out  half  tiieir  days. 
We  might  find  very  much  to  praise. 
Most  worthy  of  a  poet's  lays. 

Could  we  but  scan  the  true  beginning 
Of  the  souls  most  deeply  sinning. 
We'd  see  them  hounded  to  tlieir  fate. 
And  aided  not  by  Churcli  or  State. 

The  germs  of  all  that's  good  and  wise, 
Would  pulsate  there  before  our  eyes; 
But,  overborne  l>y  jiassion's  power, 
Outwrought  before  the  natal  iionr. 


168  POEMP. 


Tliis  world  is  hut,  tlic  veHtibiile 

Of  great  N'atnio.s  tiaining  scliool; 

Hannoiiious  development 

Will  sure  result  wlieu  passion's  spent. 

In  that  liriglit  world  of  joy  and  glory, 
l)Ut  little  Unown  to  song  and  story; 
All  will  harmonious  growth  attain, 
And  thus  through  endless  time  remain. 

Much  tliat  now  is  dark  antl  dreary, 
There  will  be  Ijoth  light  and  cheery; 
The  granduer  of  the  glorious  whole 
Will  thrill  with  pleasure  every  soul. 

The  economy  of  evolution 
Will  light  up  clearly  retribution, 
As  day  and  nigiit  must  come  and  go. 
As  ocean's  tides  must  ebb  antl  flow. 

80  good  and  evil  interbleud, 
But  high  achievement  is  the  end, 
And  the  merest  recreation 
Works  out  the  highest  exaltation. 

'Tis  true  that  some  are  crushed  and  bruised, 

And  always  seem  to  he  abused; 

Justice  is  l)ut  a  partial  force, 

While  harmony  will  crown  the  course. 


-^^i^i^^^^^f^'^^ 


A  Man's  Thoughts  on  the 
Woman  Question, 


READ    BEFORE    THE    ST.    HELENA    WOMAN-SUFFRAGE    ASSOCIATION    BY 
DR.    .JOHN    ALI.YN. 


As  prefatory  to  a  direct  consideration  of  the  subject,  I 
wish  distinctly  to  repudiate  what  is  sometimes  expressed  or 
implied,  that  there  is  an  antagonism  between  the  rights  and 
interests  of  men  and  women.  So  long  as  every  man  inuft  have 
a  mother,  fiJiotild  be  a  husband,  and  maj/  be  the  father  of 
daughters,  so  long,  whatever  tends  to  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  woman,  to  elevate  her,  tnorally,  intellectual!}',  and  i)hys- 
ically,  is  directly  calculated  to  benefit  man  and  improve 
society. 

This  subject  is  engaging  a  large  share  of  the  attention  of 
intelligent,  earnest,  thinking  people,  both  in  this  country 
and  the  older,  more  fossilized  civilizations  of  Europe.  For 
years  there  has  been  a  manifest  tendency  to  enlarge 
woman's  sphere,  as  it  is  called,  in  the  walks  of  industry, 
literature,  science,  and  art.  With  scarcely  an  exception, 
this  movement  is  regarded  by  intelligent  persons  as  a 
healthy  progress  and  a  beneiicent  prophecy  of  the  future. 

I  regard  woman  sull'rage  as  but  a  l)ranch,  an  important 
one,  iti  is  true,  of  this  entire  movement.  Power  is  a  neces- 
sary element  in  human  conditions,  and  political  govern- 
ments wield  an  immense  power  over  the  destinies  of  the 
people.  Hitherto,  that  power  has  come  far  short  of  achiev- 
ing the  highest  possible  good;  nor  do  I  for  a  moment  sup- 
pose that  the  addition  of  a  new  element,  which  I  would 
term  the  female  element,  in  politics  and  legislation  would 
11 


170  THK    WOMAN    (QUESTION. 

at  oiiee  anhieve  nil  possible  ^ooil  or  avoid  all  evil  incident 
to  human  <^overnnients.  We  are  a])t  (o  regard  institutions 
and  usages  as  fixed,  whereas  the  thinker  j>orceives  that  all 
things  are  but  growths  more  or  less  gradual,  "i'lie  globe 
we  iidiabit  is  the  growth  of  time;  much  of  the  solid  rock  is 
formed  by  gradual  accretions  from  aqueous  sedimentary 
deposits  or  the  labors  of  minute  animals;  the  soil  is  formed 
b}'  the  slow  disintegration  of  more  solid  rocks  and  mixtures 
of  vegetable  mold  accumulated  from  year  to  year  through 
the  ages.  Governments  and  religions  are  also  growths  of 
time,  and  both  are  far  from  having  reached  a  condition 
which  scientists  term  one  of  stable  equilibrium.  Sad  indeed 
would  it  be  were  nothing  further  to  be  achieved  even  in 
our  own  favored  laud  Avhere  government  has  done  more  for 
the  people  than  in  any  other  age  or  country  of  our  globe. 
Yes;  inspiration  and  intuition  have  alike  discerned  a  good 
time  coming,  from  the  projihets  of  Israel  to  the  seers  of 
America,  when  nations  should  not  destroy  each  other  in 
warfare  or  politicians  pervert  or  waste  the  substance  of  the 
people. 

From  our  standpoint,  recognizing  the  natural  right  of 
woman  to  achieve  all  in  the  fields  of  industry'  or  intellect 
that  her  natural  i)Owers  enable  her  to ;  there  are  laws,  and 
the  greater  power  behind  the  laws — public  sentiment: — 
which  are  wrong  and  need  removing  or  reforming.  But  I 
repudiate  the  idea  sometimes  thoughtless!}'  advanced,  that 
man  has  acted  in  bad  faith  towards  woman  and  consciously 
framed  laws  to  oppress  or  enslave  her.  As  a  rule,  the  laws 
were  made  from  a  noble  purpose  to  subserve  alike  the  in- 
terests of  man  and  woman.  As  an  example,  take  one  of  the 
laws  complained  of,  which  requires  the  estate  of  a  deceased 
married  man  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  an  administrator.  In 
times  past,  women  have  been  so  unacquainted  with  business 
matters  that  such  a  law  was  necessarv'  to  protect  them  from 
spoliation  from  designing  knaves.  It  is  doubtful  whether 
a  sufficient  number  of  women  are  acquainted  with  business 
to  render  it  safe  for  their  interest  to  change  such  a  law.  It 
is  at  first  requisite  that  woman  should  be  trained  in  busi- 
ness sufficient  to  protect  herself,  and  then  the  law  should 
be  changed  to  meet  the  progressed  condition  of  society. 

But  while  we  maintain  that  the  laws  affecting  women 
more  particularly  have  resulted  from  honest  efforts  to  meet 
the  necessities  of  the  case  and  promote  the  best  interests  of 


THE    WOMAN    QUESTION.  171 

women,  yet  they  have  been  made  by  that  portion  of  hu- 
manity who  can  only  look  at  the  subject  from  a  masculine 
standpoint  and  through  masculine  eyes.  However  much  he 
may  desire  to  do  justice,  man  cannot  fully  appreciate  the  feel- 
ings and  needs  of  woman;  therefoie  the  feminine  half  of  the 
peoj)le  should  be  directly  represented  in  legislatures  to  se- 
cure the  highest  and  best  legislation.  Were  such  the  case, 
I  feel  satisfied  that  many  laws  would  be  improved.  As  to 
the  objection  that  there  would  be  more  political  intrigue 
and  wire-pulling  than  now,  suffice  it  to  say  that  then,  as 
now,  that  will  rest  with  the  people.  If  tliere  is  sufficient 
intelligence  and  moral  stamina  among  the  people  to  de- 
mand honesty  in  their  political  servants,  they  will  have  it; 
if  not,  Heaven  help  them!  It  is  said  that  women  are  more 
ambitious  of  the  honors  of  office  than  men.  Whatever  of 
truth  there  is  in  this  results  from  the  plain  fact  that  man's 
ambition  is  counterbalanced  by  the  difficulties  which  beset 
the  i^xthway  of  the  political  as])irant.  If  a  woman  is 
afflicted  with  an  inordinate  ambition  for  place,  for  power, 
and  for  distinction,  a  little  experience  in  the  labors,  the 
struggles,  and  the  disa))pointments  incident  to  office-seek- 
ing would  afltbrd  an  eti'ective  antidote. 

The  idea  has  prevailed  in  society  that  girls  liave  no  legit- 
imate career  but  to  become  wives  and  mothers;  to  this  end 
are  they  educated  and  trained;  and  if  they  succeed,  they 
become  a  household  ornament  or  a  houshold  drudge,  ac- 
cording to  the  circumstances  of  their  husbands;  but  for 
those  who  fail  to  secure  husbands  in  early  life,  for  any 
cause,  there  is  no  honorable  and  inviting  career  open. 

In  more  recent  years,  a  few  possessing  uncommon  en- 
ergy to  outface  public  sentiment  have  made  their  way  to  re- 
spectable positions  as  preachers,  physicrians,  writers,  sculp- 
tors, and  painters;  but  to  the  great  nuijority  life  becomes  a 
disappoiiitnioiit,  a  dreary  waste;  and  amidst  the  sneers  of 
the  low-minded,  they  gravitate  to  the  wretched  position  of 
a  governess  in  a  brother's  or  a  sister's  family,  without  the 
wa<^cs  of  a  governess. 

While  this  is  the  result  of  Protestant  sentiments,  usages, 
and  education,  the  Catholic  Church  has  provided  within 
her  ample  pale  an  honorable  and  useful  career  for  this 
cliiss  which,  in  older  countries  where  there  are  more  fe- 
males than  males,  is  always  large.  They  can  enter  the  ser- 
vice of  tlie  Church  and  be  useful,  respected,  and  happy,  in 


I7li  THE    WOMAN    QUEbllON. 

ctUu'.'itiiif,'  and  caiinjj  for  the  orphan  and  ministering  to  the 
Hick;  and  in  times  of  war  and  ])estilence,  the  Sisters  of 
Cliarity  become  Angels  of  Mercy  to  the  maimed,  the  suffer- 
ing, and  the  dying.  Protestantism  presents  but  a  transi- 
tional phase  of  society,  and  is  inade(juate  to  meet  the  needs 
of  all  classes  of  society;  and  there  remains,  then,  but  the 
alternative  to  go  back  to  Catholicism,  or  forward  to  a  better 
condition  of  society  yet  to  be  evolved  by  the  struggles  of 
reformers. 

Maternity  is,  doubtless,  the  crowning  honor  of  woman; 
but  all  are  not  privileged  to  participate  in  the  happiness 
and  honor  of  rearing  healthy,  intelligent,  and  moral  sons 
and  daughters;  and  any  woman  whose  constitution  is  such 
that  a  physiologist  could  perceive  that  she  could  not  become 
the  mother  of  such  children,  does  herself  a  great  wrong,  and 
society  a  still  greater  wrong,  to  become  a  mother;  or, 
further,  if  a  woman  prefers  to  forego  maternity  and  devote 
her  energies  to  achievements  in  the  fields  of  industry,  re- 
form, benevolence,  literature,  art,  or  science,  slie  should  be 
respected  in  so  doing;  and  such  a  course  might  prove  more 
useful  to  the  world  than  to  be  the  mother  of  any  nu;uber  of 
children  below  the  average. 

The  Catholic  Church  is  a  mother  to  her  daughters,  and 
before  our  Protestant  civilization  can  supply  her  place, 
woman  must  be  so  educated  and  trained  as  to  be  self- 
poised,  self-reliant,  self-supporting,  and  inspired  with 
other  aims  in  life  than  to  be  merely  some  man's  wife  and 
pet.  But  it  is  said,  "  this  involves  great  labors,  great  re- 
sponsibilities, and  is  beset  with  insurmountable  ditMculties." 
True,  the  difficulties  are  great,  but  energy,  perseverance, 
and  a  definite  aim,  will  accomplish  wonders;  and  we  should 
not  forget  that  faculties  and  powers,  both  physical  and 
mental,  increase  with  use,  and  these  become  still  further 
augmented  by  inheritance  from  mother  to  daughter. 

I  am  satisfied  that  men  are  more  ready  to  grant  equal 
political,  educational,  and  industrial  privileges  than  women 
are  to  ask  for  them  with  a  serious  intent  to  actually  improve 
them.  This  is  indicated  by  the  action  of  the  regents  of  the 
California  University.  On  the  application  of  the  first  young 
woman  to  participate  in  its  high  privileges,  the  doors  were 
opened  alike  to  young  women  and  young  men. 

True,  some  trades  unions  have  acted  on  a  narrow  and 
selfish  principle — like  the   typographical  union — in    trying 


THK    WOMAN    QUESTION.  173 

to  excliicle  women;  but  on  the  same  narrow  and  selfish 
princii^le,  man}''  industrial  j^^uilds  have  actually  compelled 
master  workmen  to  exclude  the  great  majority'  of  boys  from 
learning  frades,  that  the}'  might  command  the  work  and 
dictate  the  late  of  wages.  These  are  exceptional  cases 
where  blind  selfishness  got  the  better  of  the  broader  prin- 
ciples of  justice,  which  are  of  more  universal  application. 
It  is  easy  to  perceive  that  the  principal  opponents  of  this 
movement  are  women;  and  these  may  be  divided  into  two 
classes:  First,  the  wealthy  classes — women  who  have  pros- 
perous, kind,  indulgent  husbands  and  luive  formed  habits 
of  luxurious  ease,  and  sometimes  of  wasteful  extravagance. 
These  "have  all  the  rights  they  want;"  and  with  ami)le 
means  to  cultivate  social  and  sestlietic  tastes,  they  do  not 
care  to  trouble  themselves  with  the  sterner  labors  of  un- 
derstanding political  ])robleras,  which  they  will  have  to  do 
in  self-jirotoction  if  Biddy  is  allowed  to  vote.  To  this  class 
may  be  added  Mrs.  General  Thus,  and  the  Honorable  Mrs. 
So-and-So,  who  are  delighted  to  appropriate  the  honor  of 
their  husbands'  achievements,  without  the  trouble  of  mak- 
ing any  achievements  for  themselves.  All  these  are  the 
few  who  have  drawn  prizes  in  the  lottery  of  life  and  are  de- 
termined to  enjoy  their  advantages  to  the  full  without  cul- 
tivating a  troublesome  appreciation  of  the  needs  of  the 
miijy  who  have  failed  to  draw  prizes  in  the  aforesaid  lot- 
tery. Second,  the  larger  i'^norant  class,  made  vip  of  va- 
rious phases  of  ignorance.  This  class  is  led  by  political,  re- 
ligions, or  social  demagogues,  aided  by  that  giant  imper- 
son:il  demagogue  —  public  sentiment.  This  last  class  is 
most  numerous  and  most  formidable.  Fortune  is  fickle, 
the  votaiies  of  ease  and  pleasure  are  weiik  and  inefficient 
op]ion('nts,  but  ignorance  and  prejudice  are  very  tenacious; 
and  like  the  fabled  vampire,  tiiey  prey  upon  their  victims. 
To  remedy  this,  we  must  inspire  with  lofty  aims  for  self- 
culture  and  personal  achievement.  The  struggle,  disci- 
pline, and  development  incident  to  obtain  the  ballot  will 
be  a  useful  preparation  for  its  judicious  use. 

There  is  at  the  present  time  a  frightful  amount  of  matri- 
monial infelicity  in  civilized  society,  to  express  by  a  mild  term 
what  might  be  more  forcibly  exi)ressed  by  the  term  "  con- 
jugal i)andemoniums."  There  are  a  great  variety'  of  causes 
for  this  unfortunate  state  of  social  life.  Bad  men  and  bad 
liquors  are  accountable  for  much,  but  it  lies  in  the  line  of 


174  TUE    WOMAN    QUESTION. 

this  iultlifss  to  iiieulion  ii  prolific  cause  of  inliarmonious 
liouseliolds  which  this  moveiiieiit  promises  to  relieve.  It 
consists  ill  a  diversity  of  aims  in  life  and  a  diversity  of  ed- 
ucation and  trainiMf,'  in  the  candidates  for  matrimony.  The 
yoniif,'  man  who  has  to  make  his  own  way  in  the  world 
mainly,  and  who  has  a  purpose  to  be  something  more  than 
a  cipher,  realizes  the  necessity  of  accumiilatinj,^  capital;  to 
accomplish  this  it  is  necessary  to  live  ))rudeiitly,  and  add 
economy  to  industry.  The  young  lady,  not  having  been 
subjected  to  the  wlnjlesome  discipline  of  earning  monej',  has 
no  adequate  appreciation  of  capital  as  a  factor  in  the  affairs 
of  life — is  intent  on  living  as  her  quondam  schoolmate, 
Alice  Angelina,  lives,  who  may  be  in  (piite  different  circum- 
stances. Thus  while  one  member  of  the  partnership  is  in- 
tent on  accumulating,  and  the  other  spending  those  accu- 
mulations in  fashionable  display  which  might  well  be 
avoided,  in  part  at  least,  there  arises  an  irrepressible  con- 
flict. 

The  indications  then,  plainly  are,  that  girls  should  learn 
some  profession  or  business  as  well  as  boys,  by  which  they 
can  earn  an  honorable  living,  in  case  they  never  choose  to 
marry,  or  meet  with  misfortunes  in  life,  or  become  orphans 
or  widows.  Many  professions  and  branches  of  industry  are 
now  open  to  women;  others  will  be,  as  the  movement  pro- 
gresses. There  are  now  in  the  United  States  seven  medi- 
cal colleges  expressly  for  women,  besides  many  others 
where  they  are  admitted  on  an  equality  with  men.  True, 
the  grade  of  scholarship  in  some  of  these  is  not  of  the  high- 
est order,  but  even  the  lowest  grade  will  serve  to  prepare 
women  to  become  nurses  and  acconclieurs,  and  to  elevate 
those  professions.  Much  of  journalism  and  type-setting, 
not  requiring  great  physical  strength,  seem  fit  employments 
for  women. 

In  the  East,  where  there  is  an  excess  of  women  over  men, 
editors  are  constantly  receiving  letters  inquiring  what  in- 
dusirial  occupations  are  open  to  women;  the  demand  seems 
greater  than  the  supply,  but  we  should  reflect  that  our  in- 
dustrial conditions  are  rapidly  changing;  mere  muscle  is 
not  likely  to  be  at  the  same  premium  in  the  future  that  it 
has  been  in  the  past. 

In  the  last  half  century  much  rough  work  has  been  done 
that  will  not  have  to  be  repeated;  tlje  vast  forests  of  west- 
ern New  York,  Peiinsvlvania,  Ohio,  and  Indiana  have  been 


THE    WOMAN    QUESTION.  175 

cleared — tbe  ])raines  of  Illinois,  Iowa,  and  Wisconsin  are 
broken  up  and  reduced  to  cultivation — the  placer  mines  of 
tlje  Pacific  Slope  nearly  exhausted,  and  the  crests  of  tbe 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Sierras  scaled  and  spanned  by 
oue  of  the  finest  railroads  in  the  world.  Add  to  this  that 
machinery  is  constantly  being  brought  to  do  what  muscle 
formerly  did,  and  that  we  are  likely  to  have  an  over- 
supply  of  laborers  from  China  to  do  such  uncongenial 
rough  labor  as  remains  to  be  done.  The  greater  portion  of 
the  most  laborious  and  exhausting  farm  labor  is  now  done 
by  machinery.  Thus  the  tendency  of  our  civilization  is  to 
diversify  industry',  and  aftbrd  to  all  an  opportunit}'  to  select 
an  occupation  somewhat  suitable  to  tastes  and  capacities — 
that  all  men  and  women  may  enjoy  the  God-giveu  right  to 
earn  an  independent  and  honorable  livelihood,  and,  work- 
ing out  their  own  destiny,  make  such  achievements  as  their 
capacity,  ftidustry,  and  perseverance  may  permit. 

Prompted  by  the  generous  bounty  of  the  federal  govern- 
ment, California  has  provided  the  facilities,  free  alike  to 
young  men  and  young  women,  to  acquire  a  complete  univer- 
sity and  professional  education,  without  ])aying  one  dollar 
for  tuition  fees.  The  pupil  who  graduates  from  the  pid)lic 
high  school  can  enter  the  fifth  class  of  the  University — 
passing  through  that,  can  enter  the  University,  and  after 
graduating  in  that,  can  study  any  of  the  learned  professions. 
To  those  who  wish  to  |)repare  for  the  respectable  occupa- 
pation  of  a  teacher  the  open  doors  of  the  State  Normal 
School  invite  all  alike.  To  those  who  wish  to  pursue  any 
of  the  natural  scieiices  the  University  afibrds  ample  facili- 
ties. 

There  are  now  fifteen  young  women  acquiring  a  medical 
education  in  the  Medical  depintment  of  the  University  of 
Michigan.  How  long  shall  California  lag  behind  the  Ban- 
ner State  of  educatioiud  progress? 

—  ISK'. 


-:>^^rii^V5:7<^ 


Miscellaneous, 


THE  PETRIFIED  FOREST. 


St.  Helena,  May^,  1872. 

Editor  Transcript: — It  is  understood  that  a  tourist  cau- 
i>ot  "see"  California  without  visiting  three  well-heralded 
wonders  of  nature.  These  are  Yosemite  Valley  and  Falls, 
the  Big  Trees,  and  the  Geysers.  But  though  less  kuow-n, 
the  Petrified  Forest  is  scarcely  less  interesting  to  the  geolo- 
gist, the  mineralogist,  or  the  lover  of  the  wonderful  in 
nature.  This  is  situated  four  miles  west  of  Calistoga  hot 
spring  (a  small  village  whose  name  indicates  its  character), 
situated  at  the  head  of  Naj)a  Valley.  It  is  located  on  a 
ridge  of  the  Coast  Range  Mountains  dividing  Napa  and 
Sonoma  valleys,  at  an  elevation  of  about  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea. 

On  inquiring  the  way  to  this  remarkable  phenomenon  of 
some  settlers  residing  in  the  neighborhood,  I  was  gratui- 
tously informed  that  the  Petrified  Forest  was  a  humbug. 
Truly  there  is  no  accounting  for  taste.  I  suppose  that  some 
men  have  lived  all  their  lives  within  hearing  of  the  roar  of 
Niagara  without  ever  talcing  the  trouble  to  see  it.  If  pub- 
lic opinion  would  tolerate  such  a  thing,  they  might  call  it 
a  humbug. 

As  we  leave  Calistoga,  ascending  the  hill  at  an  easy  grade, 
St.  Helena  mountain  affords  some  grand  and  beautiful 
scenery.  At  a  distance  of  about  five  miles  it  lifts  its 
rugged  nuijeslic  cone  4,400  feet  above  the  sea-level. 
Knights  Valley,  checked  with  fields  of  growing  crops  in 
dark-green,  pea-green,  and  variegated  colors,  set  in  a  frame- 


MISCELLANEOUS.  177 

work  of  noble  forests  and  mountain  shrubbery  in  the  rich 
foliage  of  sprinf*',  afifortled  <i  charminopros])ect.  On  reach- 
ing the  ground  we  find  its  hilly  surface  of  the  cretaceous 
formation  abounding  in  volcanic  tufa.  The  trees  lie  scat- 
tered about  over  nearly  100  acres,  and  some  at  a  greater 
distance.  They  are  from  two  to  ten  feet  in  diameter,  often 
broken  quite  squarely  across,  three  or  four  feet  in  length, 
ahnost  as  if  they  had  been  sawed  for  cord  wood,  but  some 
of  the  lengths  were  broken  into  fragments,  aft'ordii)g  an 
abundance  of  specimens  to  be  carried  away  by  visitors. 
These  pieces  show  the  grain — sometimes  a  knot  or  a  curl — 
as  ])lainly  as  the  fresh-cut  wood,  while  one  side  will  glitter 
with  fine  quartz  crystal.  As  a  Boston  nnm  recently  appro- 
priated a  generous  quantity  of  these  specimens,  I  presume 
you  can  see  some  in  the  Boston  Museum,  A  party  of  geolo- 
gists from  the  University  of  California  recently  visited  this 
place;  their  ideas  will  soon  be  made  public  as  to  the  forma- 
tion of  these  petrifactions.  The  largest  tree  has  a  trunk  of 
sixty  feet,  unbroken,  lying  above  ground,  the  remainder 
being  buried  in  the  hill  side  It  is  rather  plain  that  these 
petrifactions  were  redwood,  oak  and  fir,  the  only  trees  that 
abound  to  any  extent  in  the  vicinity  at  the  present  time. 
As  redwood  logs  have  been  cut  in  artesian  wells  in  Oakland 
at  a  depth  of  several  hundred  feet,  it  is  presumed  they  have 
flourished  here  for  a  length  of  time  not  easily  determined. 
These  petrifactions  are  thought  by  some  to  be  formed  by 
tiie  action  of  water  holding  silica  in  solution.  They 
might  have  flonrislied  in  a  basin  which  had  gathered  a  soil 
from  the  surrounding  liills,  whose  outlet  was  a  narrow  pre- 
cipitous gorge  that  might  have  been  so  stopped  by  an 
earthquake  or  volcanic  eruption  as  to  flood  the  basin.  We 
may  as  well  rest  with  this  conjecture  until  science  shall  de- 
termine the  character  and  cause  of  the  phenomena. 


EVOLUTION  AND  RELIGION. 

HEl'LV  TO  A  SERMON. 

A  religious  teach^-r  who  arrays  religion  against  science 
will  impair  the  force  of  the  moral  truths  he  may  utter. 
Personal  religion  consists  in  purity  of  heart  and    purpose, 


178  MISCELLANEOUS. 

ami  ri<,'liteoiiHiiess  of  life.  P^fToits  to  promote  these,  however 
liumble,  will  be  respected;  but  efl'orts  to  array  religion 
against  the  eterual  verities  of  seieuco,  will  not. 

Theism  does  not  enter  into  the  problem  of  evolution  at 
all.  Because  we,  as  individuals  have  sprung  from  minute 
beginnings  by  gradual  growth,  it  does  not  follow  that  God 
is  not  our  Author  or  Creator.  Precisely  so  as  to  the  origin 
of  animal  life,  including  man,  on  this  planet.  If  the  whole 
sprung  from  minnte  beginnings  by  a  process  of  gradual 
growth  or  evolution,  it  in  no  way  afl'ects  the  question  of  the 
Power  or  the  Per.son  who  was  the  moving  force.  The  ques- 
tion of  evolution  among  well-informed  scientists  is  regarded 
as  settled  as  firmly  as  tlie  law  of  gravitation  or  the  circula- 
tion of  the  blood  in  the  animal  system. 

At  Harvard,  every  professor  whose  department  is  con- 
nected with  biology  (living  or  extinct  animal  forms)  is  an 
evolutionist — Asa  Gray,  Whitney,  A.  Agassiz,  Hagan, 
Goodale,  Shaler,  Farlow,  Faxon.  At  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University,  which  aims  to  be  in  the  van  of  advancement, 
evolution  is  held  and  taught.  In  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania all  the  biological  Professors  are  evolutionists — 
Leidy,  Allen,  Rother,  and  Parker.  At  Yale,  Dartmouth, 
Cornell,  Michigan,  Brown,  Bowdoin,  and  Princeton  Uni- 
versities the  biological  Professors  are  in  the  same  category. 
Many  of  these  are  conservative  men  and  Theists. 

The  establishment  of  the  law  of  evolution  is  by  most 
scientists  regarded  as  the  greatest  achievement  of  the  cen- 
tury. 

Darwin  takes  a  high  place  as  a  scientist  and  benefactor 
of  mankind — what  his  religious  opinions  are  does  not  ap- 
pear from  his  works.  He  sailed  over  oceans  and  traveled 
over  continents,  carefully  noting  what  he  observed,  and 
systematized  the  fruits  of  his  labor  without  mentioning  their 
relations  to  God  or  religion.  He  was  a  high-minded,  con- 
servative English  gentleman,  whose  love  of  truth  and 
knowledge  predominated  over  prejudices  and  preconceived 
theories. 

It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  in  a  scientific  association  an 
English  clergyman  asked  Professor  Huxley  if  he  really 
wished  it  understood  that  he  had  descended  from  a  monkey. 
Huxley  got  up  in  the  learned  body  and  calmly  said,  "If* I 
had  any  choice  in  the  matter — which  clearly  I  have  not — I 
should  prefer  to  be  descended  from  a  monkey,  than  from  a 


MISCELLANEOUS.  179 

clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Euglaud,  who  makes  no  better 
use  of  his  brains  than  to  o[)pose  science  and  ridicule  its 
cultivators."  This  brought  down  the  house  and  put  a 
quietus  to  his  clerical  friend. 


SCIENCE  AND    KELIGION. 

CONSISTING     OF     CRITICISMS     AND     SUGGESTIONS. 
"  Prove  all  things  ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good." 

During  the  present  century  science  has  made  solid 
achievements  with  a  rapidity  uni)aralleled  in  history;  this 
has  been  looked  uj)on  with  alarm  by  some  well-wishers  of 
humanity  as  imi)eriling  moralit}'  and  religion.  Religion 
has  not  progressed  so  fast  as  science  for  two  reasons.  Its 
postulates  are  not  objects  of  the  senses,  and  its  creeds  are 
supposed  to  be  based  on  the  positive  inspiration  of  a  per- 
fect intellect.  And  although  creeds  are  widely  departed 
from  in  the  religious  teachings  of  the  times,  and  still  w^der 
])y  the  i)opular  belief,  they  for  (he  most  part  remain  unre- 
written. 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  word  "religion"  is 
used  in  its  theoretical  or  systematic  sense,  as  less  liable  to 
objection  than  the  word  "theology." 

Probably  tlie  greatest  achievement  science  has  ever  made, 
not  excepting  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation,  is  the 
recognition  of  evolution  as  an  estHl)lished  law  as  universal 
as  the  law  of  gravitation,  governing  tlie  formation  of  ])lan- 
etary  systems,  the  genesis  and  growth  of  animal  and  veg- 
etable life,  the  progress  of  civilization,  government,  and 
society.  Evolution  is  now  almost  universally  recognized  by 
scientists.  Ten  years  ago  it  was  warmly  contested,  but 
now  probably  nineteen  twentieths  of  college  ])rofessors  ac- 
cept it,  and  the  standing  of  the  other  twentieth  renders 
their  oi)inions  of  no  importance.  This  great  achievement, 
whose  fruits  have  scarcely  commenced  to  ripen,  will  yet  do 
much  for  the  imi)rovement  of  human  conditions.  We  are 
indebted  for  this  great  boon  to  the  lil'e-long  labors  of  such 
men  as  Herbert  Spencer,  Darwin,  Lyell,  Huxley,  and  Pro- 
fessor O.  C.  Marsh  of  Yale  colle<re. 


180  M180KLLANEOU8. 

Some  Avcll-nu'iiDiii^  poojjlf!  liavp  been  uiinecessarily  exer- 
cised lest  this  durtriiif  should  iiDdcriMine  moral  it}'  and  re- 
lij,'ion.  It  may  indicate  that  tlie  first  ehapters  of  Genesis 
liave  the  inii)erfecli()ns  characteristic  of  most  human  ])ro- 
ductions  and  will  liave  to  be  reinteri)reted.  The  most  able 
lhe()lo<,'ians  accci)t  this;  but  the  great  essential  doctrines  of 
religion,  the  future  life,  and  the  existence  of  an  overruling 
Intelligence,  remain  unailected  bv  it.  The  atheist  holds 
that  the  universe  has  been  evolved  by  the  action  of  the  ul- 
tinjate  atoms  and  molecules  as  acted  upon  by  the  law  or 
force  of  gravitation,  chemical  affinity,  electricity,  and  all 
the  natural  forces,  and  nothing  else. 

The  intelligent  religionist,  acknowledging  the  evolution- 
ary action  of  all  tbese,  holds  that  the  primal  force  moving 
all  is  the  will  of  the  Su)>reme  Intelligence.  Science  can 
neither  affirm  nor  deny  this  i)ropositiou.  A  scientist  may 
be  an  agnostic;  he  may  say,  "I  do  not  know  that  there  is 
a  God."  but  scientifically  he  cannot  deny  that  there  is  a 
governing  Intelligence.  Admitting  the  existence  of  such  a 
being,  evolution  bim})ly  shows  the  mode  l)y  which  creation 
has  been  eft'ected,  and  nothing  more.  The  being  and 
character  of  God  must  be  relegated  to  theology,  as  wholl,y 
beyond  the  reach  of  science,  which  concerns  itself  with 
such  facts  and  phenomena  as  may  be  verified  b}'  the  human 
senses  and  liutuan  reason. 

"With  tlie  other  essential  doctrine  of  religion,  to  wit,  the 
continuance  of  human  life  after  the  deatli  of  the  body,  it  is 
dilVerent.  If  it  exists,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  it 
admits  of  scientific  verification;  and  certainly  it  cannot  be 
scientitically  denied  except  after  an  exhaustive  examination. 

We  should  not  be  deterred  in  this  examination  by  the 
sentiment,  held  l)y  some,  that  materialism  affords  no  basis 
for  sound  morality.  A  complete  knuwledge  of  the  facts  in 
the  case,  whatever  they  may  prove  to  be,  must  aft'ord  the 
best  possible  grounds  for  the  best  possible  morality  for 
well -developed  intellectual  beings.  And  that  morality 
which  is  dependent,  on  the  terrors  of  an  orthodox  hell,  or 
any  arbitrary  punishment  after  death,  does  not  extend 
below  the  "  cutis  vera."  That  mans  education,  or  perhaps 
I  should  say  development,  is  very  incomplete,  who  cannot, 
unblanched,  look  annihilation  squarely  in  the  face.  As- 
tronomers tell  us  that  the  centrifugal  force  of  the  earth  is 
gradually  becoming  e.xhausted   and  that  its  final  destiuv  is 


MISCELLANEOUS.  181 

to  tall  into  the  sim.  Should  this  occur,  it  must  iu  a  short 
time  mingle  with  his  molten  masses  or  be  dissipated  iu  va- 
por; in  which  event  it  becomes  a  grave  question  what  will 
become  of  all  individualities  wiiicli  have  had  a  genesis  or  a 
habitat  on  this  planet.  Other  possible  astronomical  catas- 
trophes may  knock  the  whole  solar  system  into  tine  dust, 
like  an  exploded  meteor — and  what  then  ? 

Plainly,  what  is  required  to  promote  the  interests  of  true 
religion  and  sound  morality  is  more  light,  a  better  knowl- 
edge of  the  prime  elements  of  the  problem  with  which  we 
have  to  deal.  To  get  this  light,  I  assume  that  we  should 
proceed  according  to  the  Baconian  or  scientific  method; 
that  is,  to  first  carefully  examine  the  facts  or  premises  in 
the  case.  The  wrong  attitude  of  the  people  iu  this  regard 
has  retarded  the  acquisition  of  this  light;  and  to  more 
clearly  express  myself,  I  shall  now  proceed  to  criticise  tiie 
attitude  and  conduct  of  three  classes  of  people,  viz.,  the 
spiritualists,  the  religionists,  and  the  scientists, 

SPIRITUALISM. 

Spiritualism  is  the  logical  successor  of  previous  beliefs; 
hence,  sincere  themselves,  they  lay  too  great  stress  on  mero 
belief,  and  as  a  religious  sect  are  too  intolerant  of  critical 
investigation.  Tlie  slate-writing  and  rapjiing  phenomena 
are  not  easily  explained,  and  may  indicate  the  existence  of 
some  law  or  force  not  recognized  by  science,  but  fall  short 
of  proving  the  fact  of  spirit  agency;  but  when  we  come  to 
the  latest  and  highest  manifestation — the  materialization  of 
spirits — we  are  disappointed.  In  San  Francisco,  a  pro- 
fessed performance  of  this  kind  has  been  exhibited  six 
nights  in  a  week  for  the  last  four  years;  which  is  nothing 
but  clumsy,  transparent  fraud.  If  it  rose  to  the  dignity  of 
a  clever  feat  of  legerdemain,  there  would  be  some  compen- 
sation for  the  dollar  charged  for  admission.  In  justice,  I 
must  say  that  some  spiritualists  repudiate  these,  while  oth- 
ers will  not  only  not  expose  it  themselves,  but  will  frown 
upon  any  who  should  essay  the  task.  We  read  in  the  or- 
gan of  the  sect  of  better  phenomena  of  this  kind  at  Terra 
Haute,  ]Mem[)his,  Boston,  New  York,  and  other  eastern 
cities,  but  the  failure  of  anything  of  the  kind  in  Sau 
Francisco  raises  fear  that  distance  lends  enchantment 
to  the  view.  Nothing  will  allay  this  but  a  thorough,  criti- 
cal, personal  exaraiputiou  under  strictly  test  conditions. 


182  MIHCEM.ANEODS. 

It  iH  a  littlo  Htiun^'e  llmt,  reliprionists,  wljile  lamenting  the 
pfrowtli  of  nmtcrifilisin  and  deprocatinpf  its  influence,  hLoijIJ 
80  bitterly  oppose  HjjiritnuliHni,  the  only  means  of  arresting 
it.  In  niakinj,'  this  sweepinj^f  charf^e  I  must  make  some  ex- 
cejitions.  It  seems  plain  tliat,  intellectually  and  philosoph- 
ically, the  great  struggle  of  the  age  is  between  religion  and 
materialism;  and  that  the  triumph  of  spiritualism  is  the 
only  means  that  can  save  religion.  Some  years  ago  some 
remarkable  jihenomena  were  supposed  to  have  occurred  in 
the  Clark  residence  in  Oakland.  The  accounts  published 
in  the  daily  papers  were  highly  sensational  and  exagger- 
ated, still  they  were  considered  of  suflicient  importance  to 
be  investigated  l)y  a  committee  of  learned  and  intelligent 
citizens.  After  due  investigation,  this  committee  came  to 
this  lame  and  impotent  conclusion :  "  "We  do  not  find  evi- 
dence that  the  phenomena  were  caused  by  supernatural 
causes."  The  public  hoped  from  this  committee  to  have  a 
statement  of  the  facts  proved  and  what  were  traceable  to 
fraud  or  trickery.  And  the  committee  ought  to  have  known 
that  spiritualists  have  never  claimed  a  supernatural  origin 
for  any  of  their  phenomena;  on  the  contrary,  their  writers 
and  speakers,  from  the  first  raps  at  Hydeville,  N.  Y.,  thirty 
odd  years  ago,  taught  that  they  were  strictly  natural;  that 
the  realm  of  nature  and  law  extended  into  the  spiritual 
world  and  governed  spirits  out  of  the  body  as  much  as 
those  still  in  the  flesh.  With  these  remarks  I  will  leave  the 
Church,  commending  to  the  kind  care  of  the  clergy  the 
large  and  increasing  number  of  their  flocks  who  are  be- 
lievers in  spiritualism  and  seeking  light  and  comfort  at  its 
shrine. 

SCIENCE. 

It  now  remains  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  scientists;  and 
truth  compels  me  to  say  they  have  treated  the  matter  with 
unmitigated  bigotry  and  intolerance,  ignoring  the  great 
l)rincii)les  of  investigation  they  have  professed  since  the 
days  of  Francis  Bacon,  and  by  the  aid  of  which  they  have 
made  their  grand  achievements.  Professor  Huxley,  whose 
great  talents,  profound  metaphysical  grasp,  great  attain- 
ments in  biological  science,  and  limj>id,  charming  style, 
render  his  writings  sought  and  read  with  avidity  wherever 
the  English  language  is  spoken,  said:  "Even  if  'the  spirit- 
ual phenomena  are  true,  they  do  not  interest  me." 


MISCELLANEOUS.  183 

The  more  is  the  pity. 

In  defense,  they  cannot  say  they  are  too  frivolous  anJ 
barren  to  deserve  attention  from  those  who  can  find  a  fossil 
skeleton  to  study,  for  this  will  hardly  avail  when  such  emi- 
nent scientists  as  Crooks  of  London  and  "Wallace,  Zolluer 
of  Germany  have  thought  them  worthy  of  their  best  atten- 
tion and  labor.  The  great  phj'siologist,  Dr.  Carpenter,  has 
written  and  published  a  volume  to  refute  and  expose  spir- 
itualism; persists  from  beginning  to  end  in  speaking  of 
them  fia  supernatural,  thus  showing  that  he  has  failed  to 
inform  himself  of  the  elements  of  the  problem  he  discusses, 
or  that  he  designedly  misrepresents  in  order  to  throw  dis- 
credit on  a  matter  he  fails  to  meet  squarely. 

I  think  no  one  can  accuse  me  of  being  partial  to  either 
of  the  classes  reviewed.  If  the  materialist  says,  "You  have 
nothing  tangible  or  palpable  to  offer  us,"  I  answer,  neither 
is  gravity  nor  evolution  tangible,  yet  you  believe  both.  To 
the  religionist  I  would  say,  if  ajjparitions  and  spiritual 
manifestations  were  good  to  found  a  religion  on  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago,  why  are  they  not  good  to  confirm  it  in 
these  latter  days?  To  the  spiritualist  I  would  say,  you  can 
afford  to  be  patient  of  skepticism  and  tolerant  of  criticism; 
for  if  your  claims  are  true,  your  trium2)h  is  only  a  matter  of 
time. 

—18S0. 


IN    MEMORIAM. 


Brother  W.  A.  Haskin  has  passed  to  the  higher  life.  It 
seems  proper  that  one  who  loved  him  well  and  appreciated 
his  character  should  write  a  few  words  to  his  memory. 

From  the  early  part  of  his  sickness  he  was  conscious  that 
the  end  of  his  earth  life  was  approaching. 

During  my  acquintance,  extending  back  fifteen  years,  he 
has  been  a  firm  spiritualist.  The  faculties  of  his  mind  were 
so  mixed  and  blended  that  he  was  not  troubled  with  those 
doubts  which  intrude,  unbidilen,  on  others. 

During  the  only  brief  conversation  I  had  with  him  dur- 
ing his  sickness  he  said:  "I  have  done  the  best  I  knew 
how;  I  have  not  intentionally  injured  any  one;  I  am  not 
afraid  to   die,  and  I  do  not  believe  in  a  blood  atonement." 


184  MI8CKLLANEOU8. 

He  was  8iiij,'uliirly  freo  fioMi  tlio  fjreed  of  »,'aiii,  and  loved 
peace  and  ri^difcouHiieHH,  as  was  manifest  in  his  oflBcial  ser- 
vices. He  loved  music,  and  was  always  ready  to  ^'ive  his 
services' to  aid  that  Inanch  of  relif,'ious  exercises.  And  now, 
as  Ins  end  approaches,  methinks  I  could  hear  him  say: 

"  I  li.ivf  l)eeii  alino.st  lionic;  I  in.ay  not  tell, 
For  language  cannot  j)aint  wliat  I  liuve  seen. 
The  vail  was  very  tliin,  and  I  ho  near, 
I  caught  the  sheen  of  multitudes  and  heard 
N'oice.s  tliat  called  and  answered  from  afar  ^_ 

Through  spaces  iiiconoeivahle,  and  songs 
Whose  harmonies  responsive  sui'ged  anil  sank 
On  the  attenuate  air  tdl  all  my  soul 
Was  thrilled  and  lilled  with  music,  and  I  prayed 
To  1)C  let  loose  that  I  might  cast  myself 
Upon  the  mighty  tides  and  give  my  life 
To  the  sujiernal  raptures;  ay,  I  prayed 
That  death  might  come  and  give  me  my  release 
Krom  this  poor  clay,  and  that  I  might  be  born 
Hy  its  last  travail  into  likk. " 

And  then  comes  the  separation  of  the  spirit  body  from 
the  physical  body — for  there  is  a  sjnritual  body.  Com- 
mencing at  the  feet,  the  spirit  gradually  withdrew  from  the 
nerves  of  organic  life,  and  at  length  the  attenuated  parti- 
cles escaped  from  the  useless  body  through  the  upper  por- 
tion of  the  skull,  which  in  infants  is  unclosed.  When  the 
spirit  is  separated  and  has  gathered  the  needed  elective, 
magnetic,  and  other  life  elements,  it  may  be  seen  by  the 
clairvoyant  eye  reclining  on  the  ambient  air,  palpitating 
with  perennial  life  and  glowing  with  more  than  j'outhful 
vigor,  grace,  and  beauty.  He  is  now  prepared  to  Avalk  the 
shining  shore  with  the  host  of  happy  ones  already  there, 
and  grapple  with  the  problem  of  spirit  life. 

To  his  life-long  companion  I  would  say,  Mouru  uot,  he  is 
not  dead,  but  gone  before;  in  a  few  short  days  you  and  I 
will  pass  the  dark  river  and  meet  him  there.  The  darkness 
will  be  but  momentary,  and  on  that  shining  shore  your 
mother  and  husband  will  meet  you  with  outstretched  arms 
and  greet  you  with  kisses  more  rapturous  than  those  that 
thrilled  you  at  your  betrothal  fifty-three  years  ago. 

And  as  you  join  the  angel  throng. 

And  countless  ages  march  along, 

Your  love  shall  glow  still  unabated 

As  when  your  youthful  hearts  were  mated. 

—18S1. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  185 

NAPA   VALLEY. 

BY    J,    ALLYN. 

Of  all  tlie  lands  in  east  or  west, 
I  count  the  Napa  vale  the  best. 
With  Nature's  gifts  'tis  ever  teeming; 
Tlie  gonial  sun  is  ever  beaming; 
The  best  of  Nature's  gifts  al)Ound, 
And  healthful  bi'oezes  fan  the  ground; 
No  wild  tornadoes  devastate, 
Nor  parching  droughts  to  desolate; 
Grapes  abound  in  generous  measure, 
And  Ceres  strews  her  gifts  at  leisure. 

There  is  a  legend  of  an  Italian  nobleman  who  had  his 
beautiful  villa  profusely  adorned  with  fountains,  statues, 
cypresses,  flowers,  and  rare  slirubbery,  but,  as  happens  to 
all  in  due  course  of  nature,  he  was  laid  upon  his  death-bed. 
The  padre  came  to  console  him  and  fit  him  for  the  great 
change.  He  2:)ictured  to  him  the  beauties  of  Paradise,  the 
ravishing  music  of  the  angels  with  their  golden  harps. 
Uneasily  he  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  said,  "I  do  not 
want  to  exchange;  this  is  good  enough  for  me,"  and  closed 
his  eyes  for  the  last  time. 

—AinU  1,  issi. 


GOD. 

NUMBER    FOUR. 


I  am  a  Pantheist;  I  know  no  God  but  Pan — the  entirety 
of  the  universe — tiie  All. 

I  shall  express  my  views  on  this  theme  as  fully  and  ex- 
plicitly as  I  may,  without  tlie  least  hesitation  or  trepida- 
tion, though  realizing  that  some  of  our  sharpest  critics  have 
been  eagerly  nibbing  their  pens  to  review  what  may  be  of- 
fered. Although  these  views  have  served  as  a  comfortable 
cushion  on  which  to  rest  my  soul,  wearied  with  other  ologies 
and  isms;  still  I  am  wedded  to  no  theory,  anchored  to  no 
conception.  If  a  horticulturist  can  show  me  a  cherished 
error  in  regard  to  the  growth  of  plants  and  trees  in  my  gar- 
den, or  impart  a  new  truth,  I  regard  him  as  a  benefactor. 
Why  should  one  who  removes  an  error  or  imparts  a  truth 
12 


IQQ  MISCELLANEOUS. 

on  the  greatest  of  themes  be  regarded  in  any  other  light? 
Neither  am  I  ko  silly  as  to  suppose  that  God  will,  of  posi- 
tive volition  and  purpose,  punish  me  here  or  hereafter,  for 
entertaining  an  error  on  a  subject  wherein  the  best  minds 
ever  matured  on  this  planet  could  have  conceived  but  a 
mere  fraj^'ment  of  the  whole  truth,  and  jirobably  cherished 
many  errors,  (iod  favors  those  most  who  know  and  har- 
monize themselves  with  most  of  His  laws,  expressed  in  that 
part  of  the  universe  we  inhabit;  and,  having  used  due  dili- 
gence, our  comprehension  is  limited  by  our  capacities, 
which  were  given  by  powers  Avholly  above  and  beyond  our- 
selves. 

I  make  no  claim  to  originality;  these  views  have  been 
substantially  entertained  by  philosophers  luore  than  a  thou- 
sand years  ago;  and,  two  hundred  years  ago,  a  physically 
diminutive  Englishman,  of  poetic  and  mediumistic  mind, 
expressed  the  gist  of  the  matter  in  beautiful  language : 

"  All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
^VllOse  Ijody  Nature  is,  and  God  tlie  soul ; 
That,  clianged  tlirougli  all,  and  yet  in  all  the  same  ; 
Great  in  the  earth,  as  in  th'  ethereal  frame  ; 
Warms  in  tiie  sun,  refreshes  in  the  breeze, 
Glows  in  the  stars,  and  blossoms  in  the  trees  ; 
Lives  through  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent ; 
Spreads  undivided,  operates  unspent ; 
Breatlies  in  our  soul,  informs  our  mortal  part, 
As  full,  as  perfect  in  a  iiair  as  lieart ; 
As  full,  as  perfect,  in  vile  man  that  mourns, 
As  the  i-apt  seraph  that  adores  and  burns  ; 
To  Him,  no  high,  no  low,  no  great,  no  small ; 
He  tills,  He  bounds,  connects,  and  equals  all." 

It  is  assumed  that  man  occupies,  comprehends,  and  sees, 
even  with  the  most  powerful  instruments,  but  a  mere  frag- 
ment of  the  universe,  relatively  a  mere  point  in  space;  and 
that,  by  the  utmost  stretch  of  the  imagination,  he  compre- 
hends an  equally  small  relative  point  in  time.  The  more 
wide  his  observations,  the  more  fully  is  it  shown  that  the 
same  or  similar  elements  abound,  and  that  the  same  laws, 
or  orderly  sequence  of  eftects  after  causes,  obtain;  indi- 
cating that  the  whole  is  a  unity.  The  substance,  entities, 
elements  both  palpable  and  impalpable  must  be  of  the  sub- 
stance and  laws  of  that  vast  Vuity  which  I  term  God.  If 
Gotl  does  not  comprehend  the  whole,  there  must  be  a  por- 
tion outside  of  Himself  without  any  God;  or  there  must  be 


MISCELLANEOUS.  187 

a  plurality  of  Gods;  eithei'  of  which  suppositions  derogates 
from  the  most  approved  characteristics  of  such  a  Being. 

I  sometimes  say  in  public  speaking,  "  God  loves  His 
creatures,  especially  n)an  in  riidimental  and  spirit  life — the 
highest  creature  evolved  on  this  planet."  This  is  simply 
popular  language;  when  translated  into  philosophical  terms, 
it  might  read:  "  The  elements,  laws,  and  life-giving  forces 
of  this  earth  converged  and  wrought  together  for  countless 
ages  to  produce  the  crowning  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life — the 
human  spirit;  and  they  will  still  work  together  for  ages  to 
complete  what  is  begun  in  man;  plainly  indicating  that 
'  the  perfection  of  the  human  spirit  is  the  secret  intention 
of  nature.'"  Incompleteness  of  expression,  adapted  to 
popular  assemblies  of  children  and  adults,  is  admissible,  if 
not  inevitable.  Thus  we  say,  "  Tlie  sun  rises  in  the  east 
and  sets  in  the  west,  traversing  the  visible  heavens  in  about 
twelve  hours;"  speaking  more  philosophically,  we  should 
say,  "  The  sun  is  the  center  of  the  solar  system,  and  is  rela- 
tively a  fixed  point;  the  earth  turns  round  on  its  axis  once 
in  twenty-four  hours,  causing  the  i3henomena  of  day  and 
night." 

Then  the  laws,  or  method  of  orderly-  sequence,  of  that 
fragment  of  the  universe  within  the  pale  of  human  observa- 
tion— elementary  substance,  gravitation,  mathematical 
principles,  chemical  laws,  vital  forces,  electrical  laws,  spirit- 
ual laws,  and  all  other  laws  and  principles,  occult  or  palpa- 
ble, known  or  unknown,  knowable  or  unknowable — are  the 
laws  of  God.  Such  of  these  laws  as  are  definitely  formu- 
lated and  recognized  by  cultivated  men,  may  be  said  to  bo 
known;  beyond  these,  in  the  vast  sea  of  the  unknown  por- 
tion of  Deity,  whoever  presumes  or  guesses  should  not  dog- 
matize, or  ask  others  to  believe,  as  there  are  a  thousand 
chances  of  error  to  one  of  truth. 

I  am  inclined  to  tliiidc  that,  as  all  matter  constitutes  the 
visible  body  of  Deity,  a  small  fragment  of  which  assumes 
the  globular  form  in  our  earth,  and  a  still  smaller  jKirt  is 
articulated  to  form  the  human  body,  for  the  use  and  de- 
velopment of  the  indwelling  spirit  during  its  rudimental 
existence;  so  there  is  a  vast,  boundless  sea  of  mind  consti- 
tuting the  soul  or  spirit  side  of  Deity;  and  but  a  minute 
fragment  is  localized,  finitized,  and  adapted  to  use,  in  the 
human  spirit.  Between  God  and  man  there  is  no  standard 
of  comparison,  no  parallel,  no  principle  by  which  one  can 


IHH  MISCELLANEOUS. 

1)0  jij(l>,'f>(l  by  the  other;  the  absurd  maxim,  tliat  man  was 
creiitml  in  Iho  iiiuijjo  of  God,  only  leads  to  u  wilderness  of 
errors 

Ah  I  am  unwilling'  to  trespass  on  your  columns,  other  ar- 
tich'H  will  \><>  requiied  to  illustrate  and  prove  this  postulate, 
and  more  to  follow. 

Ei'dit  articles  were  published,  but  are  lost.— J.  A. 


SPIRITUALISM  THE  RELIGION  OF  NATURE. 

NUMBER    ONE. 

Old  theologians,  bigoted  sectarians,  and  even  those  who 
are  in  a  slight  degree  dependent  on  the  popular  churches 
for  spiritual  development,  salvation,  or  religious  culture, 
are  requested  not  to  read  this  article.  It  is  written  ex- 
j)ressly  for  the  benefit  of  spiritualists,  progressionists,  and 
liberal  thinkers.  And  let  me  bespeak  the  patience  and 
toleration  of  such,  while  I  address  you  a  few  plain  words 
upon  the  gist  of  the  matter  which  we  are  holding  out  to  the 
world  as  of  paramount  importance.  Twent}'  years  ago  the 
writer  left  the  church,  because  she  would  not  tolerate  the 
utterance  of  what  to  him  appeared  as  vital  truth.  I  trust 
he  will  not  be  forced  to  come  out  from  spiritualists  for  the 
same  reason. 

Probably  the  majority  of  spiritualists  regard  tins  whole 
movement  as  simply  a  disintegrating  power,  whose  end  and 
object  is  to  level  to  the  ground  the  churches,  show  the  absur- 
dity of  an  authority  in  Scripture  given  by  supernatural  inspi- 
ration, and  the  utter  unsoundness  of  the  theology  of  Christi- 
anity. Having  satisfied  themselves  by  a  careful  stud}'  of 
the  phenomena,  that,  after  the  change  called  death,  our  ex- 
istence is  continuous  under  the  laws  of  our  being  and  sur- 
roundings; they  conclude  there  is  no  eternal  hell,  heaven  is 
sure,  and  they  prefer  to  take  their  own  time  and  way  of 
reaching  that  delectable  place,  without  being  at  too  much 
trouble  and  expense  to  facilitate  the  journey,  or  assist  others 
in  reaching  their  inevitable  destiny.  If  it'were  an  isolated 
case,  it  might  not  be  significant* that  friends  vociferously 
insist,  in  the  •'  Fraternity  Conference,"  that  spiritualism  is 


MISCELLANEOUS.  189 

nothiDg  but  a  disintegrating  power,  while  many  firm  spirit- 
ualists, with  their  families,  resort  to  a  free  Unitarian  church 
for  spiritual  pabulum. 

A  clear-headed  writer  on  the  Religion  of  Nature  says: 
"  '  Do  not  destroy  or  tear  down  religion,  if  you  cannot  sub- 
stitute a  better  in  its  place'  is  the  cry  which  meets  the  re- 
ligious iconoclast  continually;  as  if  it  were  his  or  any  one's 
duty  to  manufacture  a  religion  for  the  people;  as  if  nature, 
which  gave  us  birth  and  sustains  us,  and  is  a  sufficient  guide 
in  scientific  pursuits,  in  our  every-day  labors,  in  health  and 
disease,  and  in  our  political  organizations,  should  fail  us  in 
our  social,  moral,  and  si)iritual  relations  !" 

A  thorough  and  intelligent  spiritualist,  who  has  given 
liberally  of  his  time,  his  influence,  and  his  money  to  the 
good  work,  put  the  (piestion,  as  near  as  meujor}^  serves  me, 
in  this  manner:  "Do  you  consider  the  religions  of  man- 
kind, as  developed  in  history,  to  be  an  excrescence,  an  in- 
trusion, foisted  on  the  ignorant  many  by  the  designing  few 
for  their  own  selfish  aggrandizement,  or  a  natural,  normal 
growth,  like  governments,  which,  though  imperfect,  have 
supplied  an  imperious  need  of  humanity,  and  which  were 
as  perfect  in  every  age  and  country  as  the  development  of 
the  people  would  permit?" 

It  must  be  plain  to  every  reflecting  mind,  that,  if  the 
former  is  true,  all  that  is  requisite  for  the  higliest  interest 
of  humanity  is  to  utterl}'  demolish  all  religions  from  the 
face  of  the  earth;  if  the  latter,  then  the  more  difficult  prob- 
lem is  presented  to  tlie  reformer,  of  showing  the  errors  of 
the  old  and  substituting  a  better  in  its  place. 

"Tlie  master  must  become  the  huililer  too." 

That  man  is  a  part  of  nature — if  we  use  tlie  term  to  in- 
clude the  spiritual,  the  imponderable,  as  well  as  the  palpa- 
ble— and  that  his  physical,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  pow- 
ers are  developed,  and  ever  must  exist,  under  her  benefi- 
cent laws  and  forces,  is  a  i)roposition  so  self-evident  to  an 
instructed  mind,  as  scarcely  to  need  discussion.  But  this 
seems  as  far  as  most  s[)iritnulistic  writers  go,  ignoring  the 
great  fact  that  the  real  })roblem  pressing  upon  this  age, 
and  indeed,  upon  every  age,  for  solution,  lies  beA'ond  this. 
Your  correspondent,  after  beautifully  elucidating  the  sub- 
ject up  to  this  point,  complacently  stops,  as  if  the  subject 
were  exhausted  and  nothing  more  need  be  said  or  done. 


190  MI8CELLANE0DS. 

To  11)0,  it  nppenrH  that  they  liave  just  passed  the  vestibule, 
ftiid  Hcnrcely  entered  the  teini)le  of  re]if,MOUs  trutli  and  cul- 
ture. N«)n((  but  tlio  exceedin^dy  i^'iiorant  at  thi.s  day  doubt 
timt  af,'riculfuro,  horticulture,  mechanics,  and  other  fields 
of  linnuin  olTort  and  achievement,  are  developed  under  na- 
ture's laws;  but  ho  \ou<f  as  but  a  part  of  these  laws  are 
known,  and  a  still  smaller  part  controlled  to  man's  pur- 
})oses,  there  must  be  a  continued  progress  as  human  intel- 
lect and  will  are  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  For  a  relig- 
ious iconoclast,  while  with  herculean  blows  demolishing 
the  prevalent  religions,  to  complacently  ignore  any  obliga- 
tion upon  him,  or  any  one  else,  to  substitute  a  better  in  its 
place,  is  much  as  if  a  writer  on  civil  government  should 
say  to  his  fellow-citizens,  "  There  is  no  obligation  resting 
upon  you  to  manufacture  a  government  for  the  public,  or 
to  sid)stitute  better  laws  for  the  bad  ones  you  are  exerting 
yourselves  to  get  repealed.  Supernatural  i^owers,  either 
malevolent  or  benevolent,  have  nothing  to  do  witli  govern- 
ments; laws  are  made  by  men;  men  are  a  part  of  nature, 
and  nature  will  take  care  of  herself."  But  the  question 
still  recurs;  and  for  ages  w'ill  recur,  What  is  nature?  What 
are  her  laws,  teachings,  and  requirements'?  An  ancient 
mythology  represents  a  siihinx  as  projiounding  riddles  to 
those  who  approach  her.  If  they  are  able  to  solve  them  it 
is  well;  if  not;  she  devours  them.  Nature  is  continuallj' 
presenting  this  s])hinx-riddle  to  individuals,  to  nations,  to 
religions;  if  they  solve  it  correctly,  it  is  well;  if  not  she  de- 
vours or  at  least  mangles  them.  Admitting  that  man's  in- 
tellectual, spiritual,  and  executive  powers  are  parts  of  na- 
ture, it  remains  to  ascertain  what  are  the  functions  and 
uses  of  these  powers  in  promoting  the  moral  and  spiritual 
development  of  the  race  and  of  individuals.  It  is  a  favorite 
theory  witli  many,  that  when  humanity  attains  the  maturity 
of  its  development  on  this  planet,  there  will  be  such  a 
growth  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  as  to  preclude 
the  use  of  the  learned  professions;  every  man  will  be  a  law 
unto  himself,  his  own  priest,  king,  and  physician.  Some 
writers  seem  to  leap  over  the  immense  chasm  of  time  sepa- 
rating this  condition  from  the  present,  especially  when 
treating  of  the  subject  of  religion,  which  may  be  defined  as 
the  best  method  and  means  the  human  intellect  has  been 
able  to  devise  and  put  in  practical  operation  for  the  moral 
and  spiritual  culture  of  the  race. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  191 

Spiritualists  hold  that  civilized  nations  are  sadly  in  need 
of  a  new  religion.  It  is  true  that  the  practical  workings  of 
the  churches  (thanks  to  native  common  sense)  are  better 
than  their  creeds  and  their  tlieolog}';  but  the  striking  dis- 
crepancies can  but  have  a  damaging  ellect. 

—1S07. 


THE  NEED   OF   A  NEW  KELIGION. 

NUMBER    TWO. 

It  is  well  understood  by  those  who  look  beneath  the  sur- 
face, and  scan  the  undercurrents  of  religious  and  intellect- 
ual life,  that  in  religious  development,  "we  are  now  in  a 
trmisUiou  ])eriod.  These  transition  periods  occur  alike  in 
the  physical,  intellectual,  ])olitical,  and  religious  unfold- 
ments.  In  the  physical  world,  they  mark  the  separation 
of  the  several  planets  from  tlieir  parent  suns,  the  satellites 
from  their  planets,  and  the  point  separating  the  close  of 
one  geological  foiniation,  or  epoch,  and  the  beginning  of 
another.  In  politics,  they  mark  the  beginning  and  end  of 
parties,  nations,  and  particular  systems  of  governments. 
Sir  Charles  Lyell  has  labored  to  show  that  these  changes 
from  one  geological  epoch  to  another  were  not  produced 
by  any  extraordinary  causes  or  great  convulsions,  but  by 
the  gradual  operation  of  such  causes  as  are  in  constant 
operation.  However  this  may  be,  the  separating  lines  are 
strongly  marked, 

Tliere  is  a  striking  analogy  between  the  physical  pro- 
gressions and  formations,  and  those  of  the  religious  or 
spiritual.  The  mosaic  jieriod  n)ay  be  defined  as  commenc- 
ing with  the  escape  of  the  Hebrews  from  Egyptian  bond- 
age; and,  as  applied  to  a  ])eople  and  a  country,  to  have 
ended  with  the  advent  of  the  Christian  era,  and  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem  b}'  the  Romans;  though  it  remains 
to  this  day  the  religious  s^'stem  of  a  scattered  ])eople.  The 
advent  of  Christ  was  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era; 
and  the  transition  period  may  fairly  be  considered  to  ex- 
tend over  the  lirst  three  centuries  thereof. 

Some  six  centuries  after  Christ,  Mahomet  made  his  ap- 
pearance, marking  the  beginning  of  a  religious  era  of  no 


192  MISCELLANEOUS. 

mean  importance.  Malioinetanism  spread  witli  fp-eat  ra- 
)»itlity,  and  iitlenj^tli  threatened  to  overrun  western  Europe, 
until  Charles  Martel  met  their  war-like  hosts  on  the  bloody 
plains  of  Poictiors  and  drove  them  back;  and,  after  long 
and  cruel  wars,  the  Mahon)etai)  Moriscos  were  driven  from 
Spain.  A  celebrated  historian  sagely  remarks,  had  the  re- 
sult of  this  battle  been  the  reverse,  perhaps  the  Mohametan 
mosque  would  now  be  glittering  in  the  place  of  Christian 
cathedrals  in  western  Europe. 

I  now  write  under  the  settled  conviction  that  a  new  re- 
ligions epoch  is  initiated,  based  on  reason,  science,  and  the 
positive  facts  of  man's  existence,  relations,  and  needs;  and 
that,  as  this  epoch  shall  be  unfolded,  enough  of  the  spirit's 
future  life,  and  of  its  hai)piness  as  the  sequence  of  religious 
culture,  will  be  exhibited,  to  indicate,  perhaps  demonstrate, 
the  importance  of  a  system  of  religious  training  and  cul- 
ture, which  shall  become  as  substantially  and  truly  national 
as  was  ever  a,uy  religion  in  any  age  or  country.  Many, 
who  have  been  accustomed  to  external  vision,  will  not  per- 
ceive that  we  are  in  such  a  transition  period.  These  changes 
are  slow,  compared  with  the  life  of  man,  and  not  coming 
at  first  with  outward  signs  of  observation,  are  not  roadih' 
perceived  by  external  vision.  Probably  as  great  a  propor- 
tion of  the  people  now  read  correctly  the  signs  of  the  times, 
as  perceived  the  transitional  character  of  the  period  during 
the  initiation  of  Christianity.  For  three  centuries,  the 
fathers  of  the  Church  maintained  an  unequal  struggle  with 
polytheism.  During  this  time,  the  Christians  were  a  hated, 
despised,  persecuted  sect.  The  Proconsul  Pliny  had  the 
candor  to  acknowledge  the  industry,  honesty,  and  law- 
abiding  character  of  the  Christians;  but  this  is  more  than 
many  others  were  willing  to  allow.  "  For  the  most  part,"' 
says  the  historian  Tacitus,  "  this  pernicious  superstition 
(Christianity)  was  suppressed,  but  it  broke  out  again:  not 
onl}'  over  Judea,  whence  it  sprang,  but  in  the  city  of  Rome 
also,  whither  do  run  all  the  shameful  and  flagrant  enormi- 
ties.'" At  length  the  Roman  Emperor  Constautine  was 
converted  to  Christianity  in  the  fourth  century,  when  the 
Christians,  being  triumphant,  turned  and  persecuted  the 
polytheists  and  demolished  their  temples.  If  the  transi- 
tion from  Judaism  and  polytheism  to  Christianity  occupied 
over  three  centuries,  it  is  scarcely  reasonable  to  expect  that 
the  transition  from  Chui-ch  Theology  to  Progressive  Har- 


MISCELLANEODS.  193 

monialism  will  occupy  less  than  one  century,  notwithstand- 
ing the  more  general  diflusion  of  education,  the  great  facili- 
ties of  travel,  the  general  advancement  of  science,  and  the 
power  of  the  printing  press. 

All  who  study  transition  periods,  in  religious  or  intellect- 
ual development,  will  find  unequivocal  characteristics 
strongly  marked.  In  such  times  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
best  minds,  the  deepest  thinkers,  have  lost  confidence  in 
the  basic  philosophy  of  the  departing  epoch.  There  is  a 
general  quickening  of  intellect,  and  positions,  long  consid- 
ered settled,  are  boldly  questioned.  Some  frankly  avow 
their  sentiments,  and  even  their  thoughts;  but  many,  tram- 
meled by  their  professions  or  social  relations,  studiously 
conceal  both.  When  Paul  visited  Athens  he  found  an  audi- 
ence who  did  nothing  else  but  hear  or  propound  some  new 
thing.  The  decaying  systems  of  iiolytheism  and  Grecian 
philosophy  proved  a  fertile  soil  for  Cbristianit}',  v/hen  zeal- 
ously- uttered  with  undoubting  eontidence. 

The  world  is  still  young  and  man  in  his  early  youth,  as 
is  indicated  by  the  rapid  progress  of  humauity  in  scientific 
knowledge  and  general  intellectual  development.  The  sj's- 
tem  of  religion  heretofore  in  vogue,  like  the  tem])orary 
teeth  of  childhood,  incapable  of  that  expansion  requisite  to 
adai)t  it  to  the  uses  of  maturity,  must,  from  its  roots  up- 
wards, like  the  temporary  teeth,  be  absorbed  away,  and 
simultaneously  substituted  by  a  permanent  growth,  adajited 
to  the  uses  of  mature  manhood.  There  is  a  beautiful  analogy 
throughout  nature's  jn-ocesses,  great  and  small,  palpable 
and  impalpable,  physical  and  spiritual. 

The  original  and  inquisitive  character  of  the  American 
people  will  not  permanently  al)ide  religion  received  at  sec- 
ond-hand. Our  religion,  like  our  government,  must  be  in- 
digenous to  the  soil;  adapted  to  the  peculiar  character  of 
our  people,  the  genius  of  our  institutions,  and  capable  of 
future  growth  and  exjiansion,  like  other  sciences.  It  must 
aim  to  develop,  individualize,  and  render  self-poised  and 
independent  each  individual  soul.  In  doing  tliis  without 
trenching  on  the  inalienable  right  of  free  thought,  investi- 
gation, and  belief,  it  must  put  in  play  a  vigorous  svstem 
for  the  moral  and  religious  culture  of  children,  and  the  rest 
of  mankind,  who  are  children  of  a  larger  growth.  It  must 
be  the  peculiar  duty  and  j^leasure  of  tiie  ministers  of  reli- 
gion, to  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  religious  science.     The 


194  MISCELLANEOUS. 

Clinrcb,  instead  of  frowning  at  all  inquiries  concerninpf  our 
spiritual  nature  and  future  life,  should  approve  of  such  in- 
terr()<,'atorieH,  made  in  a  proper  spirit,  though  the  result 
should  vary  from  the  dictum  of  an  antique  book.  Here 
lies  the  weakness  of  old  theology;  it  assumes  an  infallible 
standard  not  based  on  science;  the  continued  progress  of 
which  is  continually  undermining  its  foundation,  putting 
the  clergy  to  disingenuous  shifts  to  prevent  the  superstruc- 
ture from  tumbling  about  their  ears. 


DASH  A  WAY    HALL. 

INTERESTING  LECTURE  ON  ASTRONOMY THE  LATEST  THEORY  OF 

ASTRONOMERS  ON  THE  LIGHT  AND  HEAT  OF  THE  SUN. 

At  the  regular  weekly  meeting  of  the  Dashaways,  held 
Sunday  evening  at  their  hall,  there  was  a  large  attendance. 
The  chief  attraction  of  the  evening  was  a  lecture  by  John 
Ally n  of  Oakland  on  "The  Modern  Achievements  of  As- 
tronomy." 

The  lecturer  briefly  traced  the  progress  of  astronomical 
science  from  the  time  of  the  shepherds  of  Chaldea  through 
the  clumsy  theories  of  the  Egyptians  and  the  philosophers 
of  Greece  to  the  demonstration  of  the  Copernicau  theory 
by  Newton.  He  then  gave  an  account  of  later  speculations 
concerning  interesting  astronomical  phenomena. 

He  said  once  ever}'  thirty-three  years  there  occurs  a  me- 
teoric shower  of  great  extent  and  brilliancy.  The  latest  the- 
ory of  astronomers  concerning  these  showers  ma}'  be  stated 
thus:  There  is  a  belt,  composed  of  small  masses  of  matter 
weighing  for  the  most  part  but  a  few  ounces  each,  which  re- 
volves around  the  sun  in  a  form  similar  to  the  orbits  of  the 
planets,  and  is  in  composition  similar  to  those  larger  me- 
teors which  penetrate  our  atmosphere  and  reach  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  This  belt  revolves  at  the  rate  of  eighteen 
hundred  miles  a  minute.  The  earth  moves  with  an  equal 
velocity,  and  when  one  of  these  masses  of  matter  encoun- 
ters our  atmosphere,  the  great  velocity  causes  it  to  ignite, 
and  we  call  it  a  meteor. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  195 

The  earth  iu  its  revolutions  each  year  passes  through  this 
belt,  and  the  masses  of  matter  meeting  the  atmosphere  in 
greater  or  less  number,  a  meteoric  shower  of  greater  or  less 
brilliancy  is  formed.  The  meteoric  matter  is  not  distrib- 
uted equally  throughout  the  belt,  but  is  concentrated  very 
much  at  one  point,  which  is  called  the  node.  In  the  revo- 
lutions of  the  belt  this  node  is  brought  into  the  patliway  of 
the  earth  once  in  thirty-three  years,  and  the  great  number 
of  meteors  then  formed  constitute  a  shower  of  much  greater 
brilliancy  than  at  other  times.  The  superior  mass  of  the 
earth  attracts  many  of  the  small  masses  of  matter  out  of 
their  regular  courses,  and  a  greater  number  than  lie  in  the 
immediate  course  of  the  earth  are  made  to  fall  into  its  at- 
mosphere; thus  the  extent  and  brilliancy  of  the  shower  is 
increased.  These  meteoric  masses  raiely  reach  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  being  generally'  consumed  before  penetrating 
the  atmosphere  to  within  fifty  miles  of  the  earth's  surface. 

Taking  the  hint  from  this  phenomenon,  Mayer,  a  pro- 
found German  philosopher,  boldly  ]>ropagates  a  theory, 
which  has  been  received  with  favor  by  astronomers,  that 
the  light  and  heat  of  the  sun  are  caused  by  meteors  falling 
upon  the  sun's  atmosphere.  The  mass  of  the  sun  being  so 
immense,  it  attracts  to  itself  the  small  meteoric  masses 
which  exist  not  only  in  the  belt  before  spoken  of,  but  also 
throughout  the  solar  system,  and  perhaps  interstellar  spaces. 
The  sun  being  so  much  more  ponderous  than  the  earth,  at- 
tracts so  many  more  of  the  meteoric  bodies  that,  while  the 
earth  has  an  occasional  "  falling  star,"  a  shower  of  meteors 
is  constantly  maintained  u})on  every  portion  of  the  sun's 
atmosphere,  giving  light  and  heat  to  all  the  planets. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  sun  extends  several  thousand 
miles  from  the  sun's  surface.  It  may  be,  therefore,  that 
while  this  process  of  tiie  combustion  of  meteoric  matter  is 
taking  place  in  the  upper  portions  of  tlie  atmosphere,  only 
so  much  light  and  heat  ma}'  reach  the  sun's  surface, 
through  clouds  aiid  haze,  as  serve  to  i)roduce  and  support 
vegetable  and  animal  life  in  great  perfection. 

The  invention  of  the  spectrosco])e  opened  a  new  field  of 
investigation  for  the  astronomer.  By  its  aid  it  has  been  as- 
certained that  not  all  of  the  nebuhu  are  resolvable,  some  of 
them  being  of  gaseous  composition.  It  is  also  demon- 
strated by  means  of  this  instrument  that  the  sun  and  stars 
contain  many  of  the  material  elements  in  common  with  the 


1 9(!  MISCELLANEOUS. 

earth.  By  means  of  iho  spectroscope,  new  proof  is  brought 
(()  the  (lernoiistnition  of  tlie  nebular  theory,  that  the  planets 
wore  formed  from  mattor  originally  in  a  gaseous  state. 

The  lecturer  explained  the  latest  theories  regarding  the 
formation  of  the  solar  system  and  the  production  of  organ- 
ized life,  quoting  from  professors  Mitchell,  Huxley,  and 
others.  He  was  listened  to  with  much  interest  and  received 
appreciative  applause. 

At  the  close  of  the  lecture  Mrs.  Phelps  read  Whittier's 
"  Pii)es  at  Lucknow,"  and  several  ladies  and  gentlemen 
voluntered  songs. 

The  meeting  was  closed  by  an  address  by  the  president 
upon  the  objects  of  the  Dashaway  Association. — Bulletin. 


SCIENTIFIC   ASSOCIATION. 


Editor  Transcript: — Please  insert  the  following  plea  for 
a  scientific  association  in  Oakland,  whose  object  shall  be  to 
assist  the  members  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  such  natural 
science  as  is  already  achieved,  as  well  as  to  add  to  the  com- 
mon stock.  It  seems  as  if  the  times  were  ripe  for  the  initi- 
ating of  such  an  association  in  this  Athens  of  the  Pacific. 
It  is  not  enough  that  there  is  an  Academy  of  Science  in  San 
Francisco,  or  that  this  is  the  seat  of  the  State  University. 
The  contemplated  association  would  in  no  way  conflict  with 
the  aims  or  uses  of  either  of  these  institutions,  but  would 
be  auxiliary  to  both;  and  would  no  doubt,  be  so  regarded 
by  parties  in  interest. 

A  little  over  two  hundred  years  ago,  some  half  dozen 
calm  and  thoughtful  men  in  London,  banded  together  and 
formed  the  "  Royal  Society  for  the  Improvement  of  Natu- 
ral Knowledge."  The  ends  they  proposed  were  stated  by 
the  founders  thus:  "  Our  business  was  (precluding  mat- 
ters of  theology  and  State  affairs)  to  discourse  and  consider 
of  philosophical  inquiries  and  such  as  related  thereto,  as 
physic,  anatom}',  geometry,  navigation,  natural  experiments, 
with  the  cultivation  of  these  studies  at  home  and  abroad." 
It  was  by  this  society  that  the  method  of  Lord  Bacon  was 
applied  to  scientific  pursuits,  and  the  principle  of  Newton 
published  to  the  world. 


MISCELLANEOUS.  197 

Professor  Huxley  says,  "  that  if  all  the  books  in  the 
world,  except  the  philosophical  transactions  of  this  society, 
were  destroyed,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  foundation  of 
physical  science  would  remain  unshaken,  and  that  the  vast 
intellectual  2)rogress  of  the  last  two  centuries  would  be 
largely,  though  incompleteh'  recorded."  Without  dwell- 
ing' too  long-,  he  also  thinks  that  England's  sanitary  im- 
provements b}'^  which  the  visitations  of  the  plague  have 
been  stayed  for  two  centuries,  and  that  her  triumph  over 
the  resources  of  nature  in  commerce,  arts,  manufactures, 
and  mechanics,  are  lai'geh'  due  to  the  labors  of  the  Royal 
Society. 

I  know  that  the  difficulties  in  the  cultivation  of  the  phys- 
ical sciences  appear  formidable  now  as  they  always  have 
done.  No  small  amount  of  application  is  requisite  to  read 
up  the  vast  accumulations  of  modern  science,  and  keep  pace 
with  the  achievements  of  scientists.  So  much  is  beiug  done 
in  older  and  more  favored  localities,  that  it  seems  hopeless 
to  achieve  distinction,  and  njediocrity  seems  humiliating, 
however  much  it  may  benefit  the  individual,  or  pave  the 
way  for  some  future  Newton,  Davy,  or  Faraday. 

But  in  California,  where  there  are  so  many,  who,  in  their 
several  pursuits,  have  refused  to  recognize  ilifliculties,  it  is 
presumed  that  there  are  those  who  will  not  be  kept  back 
by  obstructions  in  their  pathway.  It  is  true  tiiat  achieve- 
ments made  in  Europe  or  the  East  will  be  rendered  availa- 
ble to  develop  our  material  resources,  but  this  will  not  de- 
velop local  talent,  or  jJ^'otuote  other  interests  to  which 
wealth  should  be  a  means.  The  condition  of  our  natural 
resources  tends  to  develop  nuinopolies.  Our  irrigating  canals, 
mineral  veins,  lailroads,  and  tule  lands,  all  tend  to  build 
up  gigantic  fortunes  on  the  one  hand,  and  debasing 
poverty  on  the  other.  This  wealth  i)romotes  an  ambition 
for  vain  display  and  extravagant  exi)enditure,  damaging 
alike  to  morals  and  tlie  general  i)rosperity.  Art  and  sci- 
ence are  the  natural  and  much  needed  counterpoises  to  tins 
tendency,  and  in  no  place  on  this  coast  can  they  be  fostered 
with  greater  facility  than  here.  It  is  ])resumed  that  there 
is  sufficient  leisure,  taste,  wealth,  and  quenchless  craving 
for  knowledge  to  render  such  a  movement  a  grand  success. 
Many  persons  of  scientific  tastes  would  be  attracted  here 
by  our  mild  and  genial  climate,  were  facilities  allorded  to 
indulge  in   this  favorite  pursuit,  while  not  a  few  residents 


His  miscellaneous. 

will  If'dvo  our  hIjoich  for  i)lace8  where  greater  opportunities 
me  aiVorded.  Soino  yvtiiH  af,'0  it  was  argued  that  a  good 
jtiihlic  library  would,  by  its  attractiou  of  residents,  increase 
the  value  of  real  estate  many  fold  its  cost;  will  not  a  scien- 
titic  assofiation  do  the  same? 


A    SMART    TRICK. 

HOW    A    CAT   INVEIGLES   THE    WARY    RAT    TO    HIS   DESTRUCTION. 

A  lady  subscriber  who  noticed  the  item  in  the  Post  about 
the  smart  cat  in  Castle  Bros.'  store,  asked  a  Posl  represen- 
tative to  come  to  her  house  and  observe  the  cunning  de- 
vice of  her  cat  in  its  war  against  the  rats.  The  reporter 
went  up  to  the  house,  and  saw  in  the  back  yard  a  big  Tom 
sunning  himself  near  a  tree.  The  boards  around  this  tree 
liad  been  cut,  so  as  to  give  the  tree  a  chance  to  grow. 
Tliiough  this  aperture  the  rats  were  in  the  habit  of  emerg- 
ing for  the  purpose  of  raiding  the  premises  when  the  ab- 
sence of  a  smell  of  cat  assured  them  of  impunity. 

The  lady  took  a  bacon  bone  and  threw  it  out  in  the  yard. 
Immediately  Tom  got  up,  and  taking  the  bone,  carried  it 
near  the  hole  and  began  rolling  on  it  and  rubbing  himself 
with  it  very  industriously.  After  he  had  greased  himself 
well,  he  left  the  bone  near  the  hole,  lay  down  in  front  of  it 
anil  appeared  to  go  to  sleep. 

"Now,"  said  the  lady,  "he  will  stay  there  until  dark 
and  all  through  the  night,  and  in  tlie  morning  there  will  be 
half  a  dozen  rats  laid  out  behind  him." 

The  reporter  asked  what  he  greased  himself  for,  and  the 
lady  said:  "  You  see,  the  rats  smell  him  if  he  remains  there 
in  his  normal  condition,  and  won't  come  out;  but  the 
grease  of  the  bacon  bone  kills  the  cat  smell  on  him  and  the 
rats  aie  deceived,  and  when  they  come  out,  attracted  by  tlie 
smell  of  bacon,  he  catches  them.  When  he  can  get  a  ven- 
ison bone  his  catch  is  enormous,  sometimes  as  many  as 
twelve  rats  being  found  dead  in  the  morning.  As  soon  as 
any  of  us  get  up  in  the  morning,  he  will  scratch  at  the  door 
to  be  let  in,  and  will,  by  his  mewing,  induce  us  to  go  out 
and  see  his  handiwork.     Come  round  and  look  over   the 


MISCELLANEOUS.  199 

fence  as  you  go  down  to  your  office  in  the  morning,  and 
see  how  many  prizes  be  has  drawn  in  the  rodent  lottery." 

The  reporter  passed  by  the  back  yard  the  next  day,  and 
sure  enough,  there  lay  seven  dead  rats,  side  by  side,  ready 
for  inspection.  And  they  say  cats  and  the  other  lower  an- 
imals have  only  instinct,  and  don't  think. 


CURIOUS    PHENOMENA. 


On  Sunda}',  Jul}'  1st,  a  large  audience  in  San  Francisco 
witnessed  phenomena  which  arc  worthy  of  record  in  the 
transactions  of  every  scientific  society  in  the  civilized  world; 
and  lest  this  statement  may  seem  exaggerated,  the  follow- 
ing statement  of  facts  is  penned:  These  phenomena  oc- 
curred in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Eeid  of  San  Jose.  The  lady 
had  two  slates  mounted  witli  wooden  frames,  each  about 
four  and  a  half  by  seven  inches.  The  lady  would  rub  the 
slates  clean,  put  a  bit  of  pencil  as  large  as  a  grain  of  wheat 
on  one,  place  the  other  ou  top,  and  invite  any  one  in  tlie 
audience  to  take  hold  of  one  end  of  these  slates  with  both 
hands,  and  she  would  hold  the  other  end  in  the  same  man- 
ner. This  would  continue  from  one  to  five  minutes,  when 
the  slates  were  opened  and  found  to  be  partly  covered  with 
writing,  intelligible,  and  pertinent  to  some  one  i)resent, 
generally  the  party  holding  the  slates.  One  message  was 
as  near  like  this  as  memory-  serves:  "  I  am  getting  along 
well.  I  have  outgrown  the  conditions  surrounding  me 
previous  to  the  great  change.  Signed,  'Your  Grandson.'" 
A  man  stepped  forward  who  appeared  like  a  business  man 
of  the  world.  He  held  the  slates,  which  on  opening  con- 
tained this  Avritiug  in  a  bold  hand,  quite  ditlerent  from  that 
of  other  writing:  "lam  happy  to  meet  you.  "Your  old- 
time  friend,  Wm.  C.  llalstou."  The  man  appeared  to  be 
confounded,  but  collecting  his  thoughts,  he  turned  to  the 
audience  and  said:  "  I  am  a  skeptic  as  to  everything  I  do 
not  see  demonstrated,  but  I  have  no  longer  doubts  of  that," 
pointing  to  the  slates.  It  is  not  necessary  to  detail  other 
examples.  The  writer  was  sitting  close  by  and  watched 
things  closely,  and  is  satisfied  that  trickery  or  fraud  is  out 


200  MISCELLANEOUS. 

of  the  question  as  nn  explanation.  It  noust  therefore  be 
ilonr,  as  it  junports  to  be,  by  the  spirit  of  some  deceased 
jjfMsons  or  l\v  some  law  of  mind  wholly  unknown  to  science, 
and  cvfMi  in  direct  conflict  with  the  reco^Tiized  laws  of  raat- 
t(M-  and  mind.  These  ]»henomena  can  be  re])eated  easily, 
as  the  writer  has  demonstrated  through  mediumship  of 
three  other  parties,  extending  back  eight  years. 

As  a  stimulus  to  ferret  out  the  fact,  law,  and  significance 
of  these  phenomena,  I  will  give  a  hundred  dollars  in  gold 
coin  to  any  member  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  or  any 
professor  of  the  University'  of  California,  who  will  prove 
tluise  phenomena  to  be  done  by  trickery  or  fraud,  or  any 
luw  of  mind  or  matter  other  than  the  spiritual  hypothesis 
includes.  A  friend  at  mj'  elbow,  who  is  able  to  fill  his  en- 
gagements, says  he  will  give  a  thousand  dollars  on  the 
same  terms. 


ADDRESS  TO   SOUTHERN   SPIRITUALISTS. 


Atlanta,  Ga.,  Aug.  1884. 
Da.  J.  Allyn — Dear  Sir: 

Your  address  to  the  Southern  Association  of  Spirit- 
ualists was  highly  appreciated  throughout  the  South. 

G.  "W.  Kates, 
Editor  Light. 

The  following  letter  from  John  Allyn,  delegate  from  San 
Francisco,  California,  Avas  read  and  ordered  to  be  inserted 
in  the  records  of  the  association: 

Mr.  President,  Brothers  and  Sisters:  Having  been  ap- 
]K)inted  by  the  Progressive  Spiritualists  Association  of  San 
Francisco  a  delegate  to  your  meeting,  I  indulged  in  antici- 
pations of  a  season  of  spiritual  refreshment  in  the  pure  air 
and  amid  the  magnificent  scenery  of  your  well-chosen  loca- 
tion. In  May  I  was  at  Knoxville  and  Chattanooga,  but, 
like  Moses  on  Pisgah,  I  viewed  the  promised  laud,  but  was 
not  permitted  to  enter  it.     "Without  knowing  the  measure 


MISCELLANEOUS.  201 

of  your  success,  I  shall  congratulate  you  tliat  you  have  se- 
cured so  central  and  salubrious  a  location,  which,  I  trust, 
will  be  held  sacred  to  spiritual  intercourse  and  culture  long 
after  its  struggling  founders  have  passed  to  the  other  side, 
still  to  work  in  this  best  of  causes.  In  expressing  my 
hearty  wishes  for  your  success  and  usefulness  in  promoting 
liberal  and  progressive  thought,  I  feel  that  I  am  expressing 
the  feeling  of  thousands  scattered  from  the  Atlantic  ocean 
to 

"  Wliere  the  surging  breakers  roar 
Along  the  grand  Pacific  shore." 

TVithoiit  pretending  to  the  gift  of  prophecy,  I  feel  im- 
pressed that  an  invincible  host  of  spirits  are  now  marshaling 
their  forces  to  aid  in  a  grand  development  of  spiritualism 
in  your  section.  To  achieve  the  best  results  it  is  necessary 
that  we  who  remain  in  the  bod}'  should  co-operate  with 
them  with  wisdom,  energy,  and  self-sacrificing  devotion. 
Such  is  the  condition  of  humanity,  and  particularly  of  reli- 
gion and  science,  that  we  shall  encounter  determined  oppo- 
sition where  we  should  receive  kindly  assistance;  all  things 
spiritual  exist  by  virtue  of  immutable  law,  and  the  results 
of  investigation  promote  all  that  is  best  and  highest  in  re- 
ligion. The  scientist  who  denies  sinritualism  is  confronted 
with  facts  which  he  cannot  explain  and  which  even  go  coun- 
ter to  his  cherished  philosoj^hy.  The  religionist  who  de- 
nies it  is  ignoring  the  best  evidences  of  his  best  doctrines, 
and  surely  playing  into  the  hands  of  the  bold  materialist; 
therefore,  the  weakening  and  final  capitulation  of  these  two 
opi)Osii)g  forces  is  but  a  question  of  time. 

Permit  me  to  suggest  that,  to  promote  the  best  welfare 
of  spiritualism,  it  is  necessary  to  tlevelop  and  encourage 
the  best  niediuniship,  and  when  found  (a  work  in  which  the 
spirit  workl  will  co-operate)  it  is  important  that  such  me- 
diums should  be  so  sustained  as  to  reduce  to  a  minimum 
the  temptation  to  mingle  that  which  is  genuine  and  useful 
with  that  which  is  otherwise — results  which  all  intelligent 
si)iritualists  dei)lore — should  be  avoided  by  the  kind  and 
generous  co-operation  of  all. 

The  social  forces  should  be  brought    to   our   aid.     We 

should  encourage  assemblies  for  sjiiritual  culture  with  all 

the  best  means  at  our  command.     It  is  not  enough  that  we 

get  convincing  evidence  of  a  future  life,  but  we  should  con- 

13 


202  MIRCELLANE0D8. 

tiimo  lo  ;^'ro\v  Hpiritnnlly  mitil  we  pass  out  of  tlie  bod}'  with 
the  full  stature  of  men  iiiul  women.  .Such  an  achievement 
iH  worthy  of  a  life  eil'ort,  and  is  the  grandest  fulfillment  of 
eurtlily  destiny. 

We  HJioiild  (h)  all  in  our  power  to  promote  personal  lib- 
erty and  free(h)m  of  thought.  It  is  not  possible  that  those 
who  think  at  all  should  think  alike  or  come  to  identical 
conclusions.  The  vain  and  hurtful  creeds  of  the  past  should 
teach  us  to  co-operate  for  the  promotion  of  the  good  work, 
without  trenching  on  the  sacred  right  of  individual  liberty. 

In  conclusion,  I  would  say  that  next  to  mediumship,  the 
Children's  Progressive  Lyceum  stands  as  a  means  of  i)ro- 
moting  true  sjiiritualism  and  sound  views  u]ion  religion. 
Let  no  elTort  be  spared  to  maintain  them  Avhenever  it  is 
possible.  Spiritualism  is  amenable  to  law  as  much  as  sci- 
ence, agriculture,  or  commerce.  No  seed  falls  upon  good 
soil  that  will  not  germinate,  and  its  fruitage  will  depend 
u]»on  the  culture  it  receives.  Happy  wdl  be  the  soul  which 
has  been  so  interested  in  spiritual  work,  that  on  entering 
spirit  life  it  will  still  be  happy  in  working  in  the  spiritual 
vineyard. 

John  Allyn. 

St.  Helena,  Cal.,  July  8,  1884. 


OUR  PETRIFIED  FOREST. 

By  Db.  John  Allyn. 
Read  at  St.  Helena   Reading  Club,  Ausust,  18S3. 

Within  a  few  hours'  ride  of  St.  Helena  are  natural  phe- 
nomena which,  if  they  were  in  Europe,  Egypt,  or  India, 
would  be  frequently  visited  by  interested  savants.  I  refer 
to  silieitied  trees,  known  as  the  petrified  forest.  ,  They 
ditl'er  materially  from  anything  described  by  geologists. 
Professor  Huxley  visited  a  petrified  forest  in  Egypt,  which 
he  thus  describes: 

"  Every  visitor  to  Cairo  makes  a  pilgrimage  to  the  pet- 
rified forest,  which  is  to  be  seen  in  the  desert  a  few  miles 
to  the  north-east  of  that  city;  and  indeed  it  is  a  spectacle 
worth  seeing.  Thousands  of  silicified  trees,  some  of  them 
thirty  feet  long  and  a  foot  or  two  in  diameter,  lie  scattered 


MISCELLANEOUS.  203 

about  and  partly  imbedded  iu  tbe  sandy  soil.  Not  a  trunk 
has  branches,  or  roots,  or  a  trace  of  bark.  None  are  up- 
right. The  structure  of  wood  which  had  not  time  to  de- 
cay before  sililication  is  usually  preserved  in  its  minutest 
details.  The  structure  of  these  trees  is  often  obscure,  as  if 
they  had  decayed  before  sililication,  and  they  are  often 
penetrated,  like  other  decayed  wood,  by  fungi  which,  along 
with  it,  have  been  silicihed. 

"All  these  trunks  have  weathered  out  of  miocene  sand- 
stone; and  it  has  been  suggested  that  Avhen  this  sandstone 
was  deposited,  the  Nile  brought  down  great  masses  of  tim- 
ber from  the  upper  country,  just  as  the  Mississippi  sweeps 
down  its  rafts  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  at  the  present  day, 
and  that  a  portion  of  these,  after  long  exposures  and  knock- 
ing about  in  tbe  flood.,  became  silted  up  in  the  sandy  shore 
of  the  estuary.  The  greater  part  of  the  petrified  forest  is  at 
present  one  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  in  the 
midst  of  the  heights  wliich  form  the  eastern  continuation  of 
the  Mokattam.  It  has  therefore  shared  in  the  general  ele- 
vation which  took  place  after  the  beginning  of  the  mio- 
cene epoch.  That  such  elevation  took  place  is  proved  by 
the  marine  beds  of  that  epoch  lying  upon  the  upraised  lime- 
stone plateau  of  upper  Egypt." 

In  1SG2  Professor  Whitney  passed  u]^  Napa  valley,  and 
made  an  extended  geological  survey  at  the  expense  of  the 
State,  but  makes  no  mention  of  the  petrified  forest, 
although  he  passed  within  four  miles  of  it.  I  can  only  ac- 
count for  this  b}'  supposing  he  did  not  know  of  its  exist- 
ence. It  consists  of  a  large  number  of  trees,  some  of  them 
five  feet  in  diameter,  completely  petrified,  even  the  roots 
and  larger  branches.  Most  of  them  lie  prone  upon  the 
ground  where  they  grew.  They  are  quite  unlike  the  petri- 
factions of  Egypt,  whose  logs  had  been  worn  and  battered 
in  their  passage  from  the  upper  waters  of  the  Nile  until  the 
limbs,  roots,  and  even  the  bark,  were  worn  away.  In  one 
instance  a  trunk  sixty  feet  long  still  stands  in  an  upright 
position.  Many  of  these  trunks  are  broken  square  across 
in  lengths  of  four  to  eight  feet,  showing  the  grain  or 
rings  and  structure  of  the  wood  as  phiinl}'  as  if  a  tree 
had  been  cut  in  two  with  a  saw,  and  then  smoothed  with  a 
plane. 

The  soil  is  poor,  of  a  cretaceous  formation.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  petrifaction  does  not  take  place  except  where 


•Jul  MISCELLANEOUS. 

wiitir  ciin  liiive  free  i)lHy  to  Hnj)i)ly  tlic  mineral  matter.  The 
Hite  of  this  forcHt  is  nbout  one  tiiousaJitl  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.  The  locality  is  hilly,  iiulicating  that  pfreat 
chanjjfis  have  taken  place  since  these  trees  f^rew.  They 
must  have  been  in  a  basin  which  became  filled  with  water 
until  j^otrifaction  took  place,  and  the  f,'round  afterwards 
elevated  to  its  present  i)osition.  It  is  difficult  to  account 
for  the  trunks  beinp;  broken  across,  except  by  their  fall 
from  an  ui)right  position  after  the  trees  were  petrified. 
These  jH'trifactions  are  semi-opal — by  miners  called  wood- 
opal.  Some  of  these  are  plainly  of  the  redwood  species. 
Professor  Asa  Gray  says  that  the  redwood  forests  of  Cali- 
fornia are  but  the  vanishing  remnants  that  existed  in  earlier 
ages. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  our  legislators  will  make  an  appro- 
priation so  that  we  may  have  our  geological  survey  com- 
pleted, wlien  we  might  expect  a  more  complete  account  of 
this  extraordinary  phenomenon. 

—ISSO. 


MOUNT  ST.  HELENA. 


In  the  museum  of  the  geolopiical  survey  is  a  copper  jilate, 
on  which  is  engraved  the  name  of  Wasnesseusky,  a  Russian 
naturalist,  and  the  date,  June  12,  18J\  This  indicates  the 
date  at  which  he  ascended  Mount  St.  Helena,  and  gave  it 
this,  name  in  honor  of  the  Empress  of  Russia.  This  is  a 
volcanic  mountain,  from  which  volcanic  material  has  spread 
east  and  southward.  The  height  of  this  mountain,  as  meas- 
ured by  the  coast  survey,  is  4,313  feet. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  Is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


& 


Form  L  9-15m  2,'36 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORRIA 

AT 

LOS  ANGELES 


A  sketch. 


3   1158  00132  0984 


CS71 
A4A4 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  261  170   3 


;   i-v. 


